


They Shook Hands - Year 5

by Dethryl



Series: They Shook Hands [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, F/M, Hogwarts Fifth Year, Slytherin Harry, Slytherin Pride, Slytherins Being Slytherins, Up Slytherin!, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2015-10-21
Packaged: 2018-04-27 08:29:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 226,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5041252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dethryl/pseuds/Dethryl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The war has begun. The evil forces of Lord Voldemort have overrun Azkaban prison, and the Ministry of Magic and the Order of the Phoenix struggle to prevent the wizarding world from collapsing. Harry spends the summer cooped up in Grimmauld Place, but he really just wants to do something. Fortunately, the new Defence teacher helps the students prepare to fight the darkness. Professor Umbridge shakes things up at Hogwarts, but is she maybe going too far? Strange new lessons, prophecies, and intrigue will all test Harry's mettle, but can anything prepare him for the weight of his inexorable destiny?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Recovery

In Harry Potter's opinion, the Triwizard Cup looked smashing in the sitting room. It was made of intricately wrought steel, with pieces of crystal forming the sides of the goblet. Soft blue light emanated from the crystal, pulsing in no discernable rhythm or frequency. The words "Champion of Champions" were carved into the base.

The prize was Harry's to hold on to for the next five years, until the Tournament came again. It could even be longer than that. The latest attempt to revive the competitions had come after a lapse of two hundred years. Until it was needed again, the trophy rested on a stone plinth that Harry had created from a bit of wooden tree stump.

Harry's Transfiguration skills had improved steadily during the last year, but he still hadn't progressed to the point where he could work well with living tissue (that wasn't his own body). Inanimate objects were another story, as he'd discovered in the first task. However, changing dead wood to never-alive stone was a fair bit easier. After a bit of replication (to increase the size of the stump) and some creative Charm-work (to shape it), he had called upon all his talent at Transfiguration and made his pillar.

Beads of sweat trickled down Harry's face. He was done, at last, but the result was not as fine as he'd imagined. It looked wrong, somehow. He frowned, all the pleasure derived from his successful Transfiguration now gone. He should be ecstatic at being the youngest Triwizard champion in history. He should have been thrilled at beating the best that Durmstrang Institute, Beauxbatons Academy, and Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had to offer, but he was not. He felt cold fingers of fear around his heart, causing the hairs on his neck to prickle. He wanted to smash the thing and run away.

Harry shuddered. The pillar he had created looked quite a lot like the one where the Triwizard Cup had rested in the dark and dangerous maze. He'd faced many challenges there: dementors, sphinxes, sentient vines, disorientation magic, fire traps, and more had tested his skills and determination. Then after fighting and sneaking his way past all of that, Harry had had to duel the other Champions to boot. The third task had taken him to his physical and magical limit. He'd never been so terrified. The dangers had never stopped coming unless the Maze was trying to lull him into a false sense of security. Nothing could be trusted. Harry had been betrayed by seemingly innocuous creepers, simple stones, and ordinary hedges. His mind had been stretched in strange directions. The task had taken him to his emotional and mental limit. He'd left a part of himself there.

Or maybe it had been left at another place. Harry had won the Triwizard Tournament, grabbing hold of the Cup that now stood on the plinth. The Cup had been a Portkey, bringing him to the most dismal place on Earth: Azkaban prison. 

Voldemort had seized the island fortress and had made it into his own private residence. It was to this deadly place that Harry had been whisked away. The guards, the soul-sucking dementors, had defected from the Ministry of Magic and taken Voldemort's side. The news of this unholy alliance had sent more than one person groping for the smelling salts. The dementors had freed the followers of Voldemort, the Death Eaters, who had killed and tortured with abandon during the last war. The Aurors stationed on the island had been murdered, their corpses desecrated.

Harry's anger at his parents' betrayer, Peter Pettigrew, had been rekindled. Last year he had personally watched Pettigrew receive the Dementor's Kiss and lose his soul in a feeding most unspeakable. Seeing the traitor walk from the shadows in the courtyard had been like a Bludger to the gut.

The eyes had changed. The once simpering orbs had been empty, but were now filled with a cruel intelligence. An evil soul had taken up residence in the body, and the eyes burned red with the fires of hell that Voldemort was barely staying out of.

Voldemort had tried to kill Harry as a baby and had tried to kill him again that night. If not for Lucius Malfoy snatching Harry from under Voldemort's nose, Harry would now be dead. His best mate's father had taken an unbelievable risk. He'd once bowed down but refused to again, and this defiance could easily get the whole Malfoy family killed. To turn against Voldemort, and to his face, no less, was about as suicidal behaviour as one could get and took a depth of fortitude that humbled Harry. He felt uncomfortable with displays of affection. The only other people who had ever gone to such lengths were his parents and godfather. They had always fought against Voldemort; Mr. Malfoy had betrayed him. Harry was determined to make sure he'd made the right choice.

The war that had been over for a dozen years had been reignited. The assault on the island prison was surely only the first step of his plan to achieve dominion. So far the response of the Ministry had been to give a lot of speeches. The Dark Lord, it was warned, would enslave them or kill them all. Mostly they were patriotic in nature, urging all British wizards to stand up for the values of freedom and self-determination. Surprisingly enough, the Ministry was doing fairly well at it. The Daily Prophet reported that Auror recruitment was on the rise. There were lots of postings in the Help Wanted section as well, mostly Ministry positions. It seemed they were going to be serious about being ready for this fight.

St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries was also hiring. They were advertising for administrative and support positions as well as radically changing the protocol for becoming a Healer. It normally required a great investment of time and money to take many expensive courses, but now those courses were being fast-tracked and offered for free. Of course, the instructors reserved the right to wash out anyone who was pants at it, but the need for Healers was foreseen to be such that the Ministry had paid the tab.

Even the goblins who owned Gringotts, the wizarding bank, thought trouble was coming. The Daily Prophet reported they had begun refusing any new loan applications and quietly upping the interest rates on existing loans. There was quite an outrage over these new practices in the editorial pages (Harry thought the editor must have a loan with Gringotts), but a spokesgoblin was quoted as telling customers to check the fine print and then investigate the definition of 'adjustable'.

All of this was running through Harry's head as he looked at his trophy. By Merlin, the coming troubles were enough to make anyone want to _do_ something, but Harry had another reason as well. Voldemort had been the one who killed his parents, leaving him orphaned. It was his mother's sacrifice that had protected him when Voldemort turned his wand on Harry, but it was scant comfort. Harry had a goal in life: to become strong enough to destroy Voldemort.

"Admiring your prize?" came a light-hearted voice from behind him.

Harry smiled and turned to see his godfather, Sirius Black, standing in the doorway. In their will, Harry's parents had named their good and dear friend as Harry's guardian. Though there had been a few hiccups in the plan, everything had eventually worked out. Sirius had given him a real home and shown him genuine love. By Merlin, he loved Sirius right back.

"No, just thinking about what I had to go through to get it," Harry answered quietly. "I'm lucky to be standing here."

Sirius nodded. "I know. I've had quite a few sleepless nights about it, too. I nearly lost you, and there was nothing I could have done."

"I thought I might lose you too," Harry said. The second task had threatened the thing he held most dear. He'd found Sirius on the bottom of Black Lake. His terror that day still haunted his nightmares.

"A person could go mad thinking about this too much. I'm just glad someone was smiling on you."

"Mister Malfoy."

"I'd rather imagine it was your mum and dad." Sirius didn't like Mr. Malfoy; even though he tried not to be too inflammatory, his opinion did slip out fairly often.

"Yeah, all three did." Harry decided to change the subject. He didn't like remembering that night. "Is Moony back yet?"

In preparation for the coming fight against the Darkness, Albus Dumbledore had sent Remus Lupin (Moony to his friends) on a secret mission to alert the "old crowd", a covert resistance group dating back to the first war called the Order of the Phoenix. Its members once included James and Lily Potter as well as Sirius himself. Dumbledore was presently the Headmaster of Hogwarts, but he had once been and was now again the leader of the Order. It was made up of witches and wizards personally loyal to Dumbledore, people he knew he could trust. He was widely touted as the only wizard Voldemort had feared to face, but you couldn't fight the Darkness alone. Many had decided to stand with Dumbledore.

Sirius had shown Harry an old picture of the group. It was wonderful to be able to see his parents, and it filled him with pride that they'd stood up against Voldemort.

"No, not yet. It should be any time, though."

"Good. I want to know what's happening."

"Voldemort has been relatively quiet since his raid on Azkaban. We think he's been reinforcing his position."

"Why haven't the Aurors hit him before he's ready, then?" Harry was eager to strike back at the evil wizard.

"We think they tried that," Sirius said grimly. "They're being very hush-hush about it, but several top Aurors haven't been seen lately, and the rumours are flying thick and furious at the Ministry."

"How do you know what's going on at the Ministry?"

"I got a letter from Dumbledore." Sirius tone was heavy. He didn't sound pleased at the communication.

"What does he say?" 

"Not much. There's supposed to be a meeting a week from Thursday."

"A week!" Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. A week was too long to go without taking action. "Aren't we going to do anything?"

"These things take careful planning, Harry. I would think you'd appreciate that," Sirius joked lightly.

"Yeah, yeah, Slytherins plan everything, but we should be having meetings. Organizing; something, anything other than sitting around."

"Ah, you need some chores to do, is that it? Kreacher might be offended."

"Sirius, you know what I mean," Harry said with a roll of his eyes. He felt his godfather was taking the lack of activity a little too lightly.

Thankfully, Sirius stopped joking. "I do, Harry, but it's okay. He can't just walk into the Minister's office and kill him and start issuing orders. Even the professional bureaucrats at the Ministry might have a problem with that. We have some time yet."

"May I go to the meeting? I want to join. I'll help any way I can." Even though Dumbledore ran the Order, if the Order was against Voldemort, then Harry wanted in.

"I'll pass that along," Sirius said solemnly, "and perhaps I shall be unable to find anyone suitable to stay here with you on the night of the meeting. Perhaps I shall have no choice but to bring you with me."

Harry shot Sirius a conspiratorial grin. "What a shame," he said facetiously.

They smirked at each other for several moments. 

"I still can't believe the meeting isn't for another week."

"Apparently there's nothing to report on yet. Damned foolishness if you ask me. Dumbledore says he's waiting on information."

"From whom?"

Sirius looked away. "From someone."

"Someone close to Voldemort?" Harry asked. "Is it Professor Snape?"

"Yes, it's Snape."

"He's still off with the Death Eaters?"

Professor Snape, Head of Slytherin House, had told Harry a tiny bit of his lifestory. It turned out that Snape had been a spy in the ranks of Voldemort's followers. Now he was going to try to continue in that role. It was a dangerous task, fraught with peril of death and torture. Harry had worried about his teacher ever since Voldemort's return.

"Yes. Either it's taking him some time to convince Voldemort he's still loyal, or he's busy spilling everything he knows about Hogwarts. Or he could be dead."

Snape dead? Harry hadn't considered the possibility of his Potions Master not being able to pull off his role as spy. He'd managed it during the last war, but maybe roaming around as a spirit had made Voldemort more suspicious. Maybe he'd judged Snape already from the time he'd spent on the back of Professor Quirrell's head. Harry had seen Snape again before school let out, but he'd said that he'd only managed to talk himself back into a kind of probationary status. His words had been accepted. Now he needed to make his actions match his words. If Voldemort decided to execute Snape, how would they even know?

"I'm sure Snape isn't celebrating with the Death Eaters," Harry said confidently. "If anything he's had to talk non-stop to keep his skin, but he can do it."

"Snape could talk the wings off a Chinese Fireball," Sirius said grudgingly, "and then convince it to give him a ride home afterwards. If anyone can lie to Voldemort and get away with it, he can."

"So there's not going to be a meeting until Dumbledore hears from Snape?"

"Right. We need to know Voldemort's plans before we start making our own."

"I know his plan already. He wants to be the bloody Minister for Magic, only I don't think he wants to get there legally."

"Right, and the Ministry and the Aurors will handle that aspect of public security. Merlin, save us all," Sirius added, "but it will ultimately be the Order that lets us bring him down."

"Once they finally have a meeting," Harry interjected.

"Yes, once they have a meeting," Sirius agreed blandly, "but haste makes waste, as the saying goes. Better to take the time to do it properly rather than go off half-cocked and get a bunch of people killed because there wasn't a plan. You should understand that. Slytherins and planning go hand in hand."

Harry chuckled. "If you say so, Sirius."

"You're getting to look a bit shaggy there, young man," Sirius said suddenly. "Isn't it about time for you to start shaving?"

Harry felt himself blushing for no reason. "I guess. I don't know how though."

Vernon certainly hadn't offered to show him. When Harry had been seven, he'd gotten into Vernon's shave kit and made a mess of the bathroom. The thrashing he'd earned that day had been particularly bad, because there was no way to escape in such a small room. His bottom had been bruised for a week, and sitting down had been impossible. Harry had coped by deciding he didn't care anyway. There was a lot that Harry had made up his mind he didn't care about. Now he found himself eager.

"It's really very simple," Sirius declared. "Come with me."

Sirius led Harry to the bathroom on the third floor. He turned the faucets and filled the sink with hot steaming water. He handed Harry a bar of what looked like soap.

"Get your face wet and lather up real well. I'll get the razor ready."

Sirius reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked like a pocket knife. He flipped open the blade, pointed his wand at it, and cast a Sharpening Charm.

"Always cast the Charm anew every time. Nothing is worse for your face than a dull razor. That lather is looking about right. Hold the razor like so," he demonstrated, "and take it in slow strokes. Slow. If you rush this, you _will_ injure yourself."

"Right." Harry was eyeing the gleaming razor with some trepidation. "Isn't there some sort of Shaving Charm?"

Harry had learned that magic could do many things since he'd joined the wizarding world. All manner of mundane tasks could be achieved with the wave of a wand. He was constantly impressed with what magic could accomplish.

"There was a wizard who tried to develop one, but he lacked fine control and slit his own throat at a demonstration panel. He bled to death before anyone from the Committee for Experimental Charms could heal him. Enthusiasm has been rather low ever since."

Harry shuddered. "That's gruesome."

"You asked."

All in all, Harry's first shaving experience went without a great deal of fuss. It took considerably longer than he thought it would, but he had been very mindful of Sirius' admonition against haste.

"Especially be careful around the nose. It can be regrown, but you'll be in for a load of teasing."

"Right."

When Harry finished, his face felt very peculiar. The small cuts he'd given himself were quickly healed with a minor Charm. He'd once had a bad sunburn from being out in the garden too long, and whole patches of skin had peeled off; the feeling was very similar, just not painful. He went to hand the razor back to Sirius.

"Keep it. You'll need it again. Once your beard really comes in, you'll have to shave at least every couple of days."

"How long until that happens?"

"Probably another five years or so, but you'll still use that razor about once a week, I'd imagine. Are you hungry?"

Harry was quiet through lunch. Shaving felt very peculiar because it was such a grown-up thing. Yet there could be no denying that he was getting older. He was going to be fifteen at the end of the month, going into his fifth year at school, where he harboured vague hopes of being made a prefect like his mother had been.

He even had a girlfriend. How that happened, Harry still wasn't entirely sure. He'd gone from wanting to be just friends with his classmate and fellow Slytherin Tracy Davis to dating Padma Patil, one of the prettiest girls in Hogwarts. They'd been together for six months, ever since he'd asked her to the Yule Ball. Her twin sister Parvati was currently seeing Draco in a nice, neat sort of way.

Padma was funny, smart, and fun to snog. He enjoyed sitting next to her in class or walking through the corridors holding hands with her. She made him feel good, and her smile made his stomach do flip-flops.

An owl turned up that very moment bearing a missive from Padma, as if thinking of her had caused it to appear. The owl refused to hand over the letter until it got a reward. Harry reached into his pocket and tossed the bird a treat. The owl crunched down the snack in two huge gulps, and Harry snatched the parchment away. The writing was fancy script and done in blue ink.

 

My darling Harry,

I know it's the first day of hols, but I wanted to send you a quick note to say I'm thinking of you. I didn't see you on the train, and I missed you. I know you and Sirius have a lot to catch up on, but give me a firecall soon.

Yours,

Padma

P.S.: Shiva likes toast.  
  
---  
  
 

Harry had not taken the train because Sirius was waiting for him at the platform with the motorbike, so they could fly back to London. He supposed Padma might be a little bit upset with him for that. They hadn't planned to sit together on the train, per se, but Harry knew that eventually they would have found each other. He hadn't even managed a proper goodbye. There had been no long snog to make them both dizzy.

"Sirius? How bad is it going to be this summer? With the war, I mean. Will we still be able to go places and do things?"

"Like what?"

"Well, I've got this girlfriend. I may have mentioned her a time or two. Pretty Indian girl named Padma. I would sort of like to see her a few times. Snog a bit. You know."

"Ah, yes, the endless days of summer. How well I remember them," Sirius said with a sudden far-away look in his eyes. It lasted only a moment as he looked somberly at Harry. "I'm afraid you're going to be disappointed, Harry. Now that Voldemort is back, the world is a very dangerous place. You don't have the blood protections you once did. That's my fault, and I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" Harry yelped. He'd expected Sirius to reluctantly enforce house arrest but had never imagined he'd blame himself. "Don't you dare be sorry!"

"The protections were broken when I offered you this home last summer." Sirius sounded sorrowful.

Harry was determined to stop Sirius' guilt trip. He declared flatly, "The protection was broken when I walked out two summers ago. I took my things and left. You saw me that night. I swore never to go back."

Sirius heaved a great sigh. "You should never have had to live with the Dursleys. I'm so sorry. I should never have given you to Hagrid that night. I let my thirst for blood get the better of me and I forgot my responsibility. It'll never happen again."

Harry felt himself start to choke up. Sirius' guilt was still so raw. He wrapped Sirius up in a manly hug.

"It's not your fault," he said when he could speak. "It's Voldemort's fault."

"Right. Right," Sirius said, clearing his throat. "Now he's back. The world is a risky place. Without your mother's protection, you are vulnerable to him. We can't risk you. You're safe only as long as you remain here under the Fidelius Charm. As you're not the Secret Keeper, you won't be able to speak the name of this destination, so you can't Floo in. I've left the connection open so that we might use it to escape if needed."

"I can't go out at all?"

"Not without a guard -- myself and Remus. Since he won't be around much, that limits that."

"Why two?

"One to take on Voldemort, and one to Apparate you to safety."

"So I have to stay here all summer?"

"I'm afraid so. We'll be able to arrange one trip to Diagon Alley for school shopping, but that's all. It's just too dangerous."

"How do I tell Padma? She's not going to take this well."

"Frankly, Harry, you have more important concerns than your love life. You can deal with your girlfriend being mad at you. It's not as bad as Voldemort being mad at you, and he is absolutely furious with you."

Somehow, that thought failed to terrify Harry. Maybe he was being a bit cavalier, but having escaped him three times, Harry was more afraid for his friends and family than himself. "Because I got away."

"Right. Few people survive his fury, and I intend that you're going to be one of them."

"That makes two of us."

So he wouldn't be able to leave Grimmauld Place all summer. Harry chaffed just a little bit at being restricted, and it made him want to kick something. Wasn't he nearly fifteen? He was a Triwizard Champion. He could take care of himself.

"Well if you're going to keep me holed up for the whole holiday, I hope you at least planned some activities."

"I figured we could do a fair amount of weight-lifting. Got to get those muscles as big as possible before you go back to school. We don't have any new music, I'm afraid, as I haven't really had much of a chance to go shopping. Don't forget that we still have a bunch of music crystals we haven't listened to yet, and we can play all our favourites.

"Plus I want to see how well you can duel. I want to see every bit of those duels you had with Delacour and Diggory."

"I'll tell you all about it."

"Not quite what I meant. Have you ever heard of a Pensieve?"

"No. Should I have?"

"No reason in particular why you would. I just didn't know if you'd heard the term before. It would save a lot of explaining on my part. As it is, a Pensieve is basically a cauldron full of memories. You use a particular spell to extract a memory from your mind and deposit it in the Pensieve. Then you are able to enter that memory as a third-party observer. It's extremely helpful when trying to remember things or notice things you maybe didn't fully notice at the time."

"Do you have one?"

"No. They're quite difficult to make, and thus quite expensive. It's not the sort of thing you can just pick up in Diagon Alley. That's custom work. No real demand for them, because they cost so much. I think I'll make a few inquiries and see if I can't find a crafter."

"You want to see what happened that night?" Harry felt a little strange about the idea of Sirius seeing the Maze -- or Azkaban.

"Only as much as you want to show me."

"Thank you."

"We'll get your duelling technique a bit more polished, and what would you say to learning how to Apparate?"

"Apparate?" Harry exclaimed.

"Apparate."

"But I'm underage."

"So you are."

"But it's against the law."

"Again, you are correct, Harry."

"But you could get in trouble!"

"Gee, I've never been in trouble with the law before," Sirius scoffed. "Besides, do you think I care about trouble from the Ministry? What are they going to do to me? Put me in Azkaban? I've already taught you to be an Animagus. I think I might be _looking_ for laws to break at this point."

"What's next, the Unforgiveables?"

Sirius stopped laughing. "No, but if you wanted to learn them, I'm sure you could find a willing teacher without too much effort. I doubt I could stop you."

"You mean Mister Malfoy."

"I do."

"Professor Moody already showed us all the spells. I know the incantations."

"Magic is more than the words, and you know it."

"He told us that too."

"Ah. Well I hope you're never in a situation where you need to use them. The Aurors were granted the authority to use them in the latter days of the last war, and some good did come of it, but only when wielded by a moral sort of wizard. The ones who enjoyed it often became more of a problem than they were solving."

"Me too, Sirius. Yes, I would like to learn to Apparate. Will you please teach me?"

"Absolutely."

The first week of house arrest wasn't all that bad. He and Sirius settled into a routine of breakfast, either homework or duelling or weight-lifting, lunch, Animagus practice, dinner, more Animagus practice, and bed.

Learning to Apparate was a nifty prospect, but Harry's first goal this summer was to attain Mastery of his animal form. He was now attempting to sleep while changed. A true Master could do that, holding the shape effortlessly. Harry still had to work at it, so he wasn't quite there yet. Hours and hours of nothing in particular to do lent themselves perfectly to simply being an animal. He explored all of Grimmauld Place from top to bottom in his alternate form. Padfoot often joined him, and they raced up and down the halls and stairways. It was fantastic fun, and Harry couldn't wait until he was strong enough to maintain his shape around Moony so they could all do this together.

Homework was always looking him plain in the face whenever Harry was in his room. He'd unpacked his trunk and placed his assignments prominently on his desk so he wouldn't leave them to the last minute. He hadn't looked at them properly, but what he'd peeked at had been scary stuff. The O.W.L. examinations were coming up in only eleven months. He'd seen some of the older students studying frantically for the tests. He firmly resolved that he wasn't going to find himself in that situation. He would not goof off. He would study every night. He had enough time to learn it all if he applied himself. It was only if he fell behind that he would get in trouble. Seeing his books reminded him of it every time, and with a sigh of resignation, Harry would sit down, open his Potions book, and begin reading. He might as well get a head start.

Harry had always enjoyed the experience of lifting weights. He'd first started with Elan Malfoy, his best mate Draco's older brother. Harry had gotten a set of weights for Christmas and had started lifting back at school with Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle. When he'd moved in with Sirius, they had turned one of the rooms on the first floor into a weight room. Harry and Sirius had lifted together as part of his Animagus training. The body needed to be strong.

Whenever they lifted weights, they always listened to very good music. Harry was partial to the hard sounds of Wand Smasher and the Weird Sisters. He actually knew the members of Wand Smasher personally. Sirius had appreciated Harry's taste, but the songs and artists he'd exposed Harry to from his own youth were very brilliant as well.

The duelling room on the second floor had been used a few times since the grand cleaning and restoration of Grimmauld Place. Now Harry and Sirius were in there nearly every day. The stage had been sunk into the floor, the lines and designs of the deck still visible in the wood. There was no stage in duels with Death Eaters. You had to be free to move around. Sirius had conjured a number of obstacles and such that could be redistributed around the room with a wave of the wand. All manner of different scenarios could thus be played out.

Harry had done quite well against two or three of his friends, but a fully trained wizard was a whole other matter all together. Sirius knew a lot about magic, and he was very quick with his casting. Several times he would slip non-verbal spells into the mix, just to test Harry. The first time it had happened, Harry had barely snapped a Protego Shield up in time to block the red bolt. It had _looked_ like a Disarming Charm, but he couldn't be sure. The wrong counter to a curse was worse than useless, so it was better to be safe. Sirius put Harry through his paces and found him not bad. It was a good place to start.

It had been one week exactly since the holiday had started. Shortly before lunch, Harry went down to the sitting room to have another go at making a stand for his trophy. Over the past year, his ability at Transfiguration had grown exponentially, a consequence of his Animagus training. He had nearly mastered the transformation, and that was the pinnacle of the discipline. If he could achieve this, there was nothing else to challenge him except old McGonagall's essays.

He started again with a bit of wood taken from the stump in the back yard. First he had to make more of what was already there. That was easily done. A wizard named Gamp had codified some of the laws of Elemental Transfiguration, and his Fourth Law stated that if a small amount of something was present, an unlimited amount could be reproduced from it. The wood grew in height to nearly reach his chest and was nearly as big around as the pillar he wanted.

A quick Rotation Charm set the wood spinning in place. Harry knew that Muggles had a machine called a lathe that would rotate pieces of wood or metal on an axis. Applying a blade to the spinning wood let one shape it. Harry didn't have a blade suitable for this task, but a Cutting Curse worked well enough. It smoothed the wood to a cylinder.

When it was perfect, Harry changed it to stone. This was the most difficult part. Harry grunted, and sweat rolled down his brow, but the result was perfect. The patterns of the wood could still be seen in the stone. It looked nothing like the plinth from the maze. Harry put the trophy on top of it and stepped back to admire his handiwork.

"Looking good, Harry," Sirius said from the door. "You're really something with Transfiguration."

"If only I could write better essays," Harry said.

"Hear, hear. At least you've got the practical part down. You're going to do a bang-up job on the OWL."

"I hope so. Come in. Let's sit." They did. "Speaking of the practical part of Transfiguration, tomorrow night's the full moon."

"It is."

"I'm getting kind of worried about Moony," Harry confessed. "Is he going to be back from his trip? How's he going to get through the full moon while out on the road?"

"Did somebody say Moony?" came a voice from the doorway. "Am I in time for lunch?"

"Moony!" Harry and Sirius shouted together. Sirius got up from his chair and embraced his friend.

"Did you just get back?"

"I made my report, but yes."

"How is the old crowd?"

"Bella's a bit surprised we contacted her. Her assignment was over almost two years ago. Mundungus Fletcher was reluctant, but he's in. 

"What was Bella's assignment?"

"Apparently she was watching over Harry."

"At Privet Drive?" Harry interjected.

"Yes."

"Who was this again?"

"Arabella Figg."

"Missus _Figg_?" he yelped.

"You know her?"

"She used to babysit me sometimes. She's a witch?"

"No, she's a Squib."

Harry shuddered. "Dumbledore had one of his Order people watching me, and he let me rot there?"

"I'm sure Bella didn't know the worst of what went on," Remus hastened to say.

Harry didn't believe that for a second. Mrs. Figg had babysat for him on occasion. She knew what awful people the Dursleys were.

"She knew, and he knew too." Harry had blown up at Dumbledore several times before about the Dursleys. They had made him live in a cupboard under the stairs, only letting him have Dudley's second bedroom when the Hogwarts letters had started arriving, addressed in that fashion. Fear had motivated them to let Harry out, and that same fear had driven them to keep him locked up with iron bars on the window and deadbolts on the door.

"Tosser," Harry said, meaning Dumbledore. Though it still bothered him somewhat, he'd mostly let it all go. Mostly. He lived with Sirius now, and not even an act of God could make him leave. He'd hex anyone who tried.

Sirius did not disagree. He'd nearly lost his composure many times while learning of Harry's life at Number Four Privet Drive. It was impossible to defend Dumbledore's decision to place Harry with his Muggle relatives, even knowing as they did now about the blood protections and ancient magicks that had thus been made possible. Sirius never voiced agreement with Harry's invective, but he did nothing to discourage it.

"It was the best of a lot of bad options," Remus said. "Dumbledore erred on the side of safety, keeping you protected as best he could manage."

"What other options got beat out by ignorant Muggles?" Harry demanded. "Was there a troll interested in adopting me? Or perhaps a giant? Were there any inquiries from the vampires?"

"Harry, that's enough," Remus said. "We can't change it. The other options included letting you be raised in the wizarding world with all the pressure of your fame. How often have you told us about being singled out for being the Boy Who Lived?"

"Plenty. I hate it." He loathed being famous because he had lived while his parents had died. He'd give it all up to have them back.

Remus nodded. "Now imagine having to deal with that every day growing up. An extra ten years of all that rubbish wearing on you."

"I might be used to it by now."

Remus coughed politely. "You'd also have all sorts of mental issues as well. No, I may not approve of the Dursleys, but Dumbledore's decision to exile you I agree with completely."

"Is that why you didn't try to contact me?" Harry had never before asked Remus why they had first met when Harry was thirteen. It was a hurtful thing to say. Harry hadn't wanted to make trouble, but now he had his dander up and was feeling feckless.

Remus, for his part, took the anger in Harry's tone quite well. "I suppose it was only a matter of time before you asked. In fact, I _did_ try to contact you. All of my owls came back bearing my letters. Some sort of spell kept them from delivering the messages. There is a curse that can achieve this effect, and I'm certain that Dumbledore used it to keep you hidden."

"He _cursed_ me?"

"Don't take such a negative view of the word. Magic is magic and the name is all in the intent."

Harry knew that to be true. Heck, plenty of charms were used in duelling. The Banishing Charm could send an opponent crashing through a wall if done strongly enough. Magic was all a matter of symbolism and intent.

"I don't know what might have changed, but I wanted to let you know about me, that I had been friends with your parents. Maybe we could have been penfriends or something. I don't know, but I did try, Harry. Please believe that."

Harry's anger was gone, replaced with shame. Of course Moony had tried to find him. Of course he had. What was Harry thinking to be so stupid?

"I'm sorry, Moony," Harry said sincerely. "I'm being dumb."

"It's called being a teenager," Sirius observed slyly. "They take _everything_ the wrong way."

Harry flushed. "Yeah, I suppose. So about that lunch."

And everything was all right again.

An owl flew into the dining room while they were eating lunch. Harry recognized the pattern immediately. Shiva was the Patil family's owl.

"It's from Padma," he said, holding out his arm to the bird. It landed heavily, and Harry held up a piece of chicken. It gobbled the meat down in two swift bites and hooted happily. It stuck out its leg, and Harry untied the letter.

 

My darling Harry,

It's only been a week since holiday started, and I already miss you terribly. Are you safe? I've been so worried. I feel so cut off from everything here at home. Daddy put security charms on the Floo. Poor Shiva has been flying pretty much non-stop with all the letters I'm sending.

I wish I could speak with you. I wish I could kiss you. I wish I could hold you. Will we be able to see each other at all this summer, or are the adults going to keep us all locked up?

Yours,

Padma  
  
---  
  
 

"May I be excused? I want to write back."

"Absolutely," said Sirius. "Wouldn't want your girlfriend to think you've forgotten all about her. Does she miss you? Is her heart just breaking without you?"

"Sirius! C'mon, knock it off!"

Sirius and Remus chortled at his expense.

Harry ran up to his room and pulled out quill and parchment. He uncorked the green ink and nibbled on the end of his quill while he pondered what to write. Something moving, he decided. He hadn't written to Padma yet, and so he should be romantic.

 

Padma, my enchantress,

The hours have seemed like days since last I saw your beautiful face. I have only treasured memories and imperfect pictures to sustain me in my drought. I long to be with you again. Alas, all my eloquence has thusfar been insufficient to convince Sirius that letting me out of the house is a good idea.

I miss you too,

Harry  
  
---  
  
 

Shiva had helped himself to several more pieces of chicken off of the serving platter. He allowed Harry to tie the scroll of parchment to his leg and took off with a great flapping of wings.

After Remus had finished eating, he retired to one of the guest bedrooms to take a nap. He was very tired, having been on the road for two weeks now. He did not join them for dinner.

Harry went to the duelling room and transformed into his animal shape. He had set himself up a little obstacle course to help him learn the limits of his capabilities. After a number of hours of running, jumping, leaping, and scurrying, Harry was quite tired. He padded up the stairs to his bedroom and jumped up on the bed. He curled himself into a ball under the pillow, leaving only his sensitive nose sticking out. He went to sleep, but he woke in the wee hours, having changed back.

Harry swore and flashed back to his animal form. He had to be better. Tomorrow night was the full moon, and he'd been looking forward to spending his first night in the protected cell with Padfoot and Moony since April and the Easter holiday. He hadn't been strong enough to control his shape then. He'd made leaps and bounds of progress since, had worked at it for a year now, in total, but that wasn't far enough for Padfoot.

"Can I go with you tonight?" he asked at the breakfast table.

"Can you keep your form through the night?"

"Almost."

Sirius sighed. "Sorry, Harry. I'm not convinced you're ready."

"But Padfoot!"

"No. It's too dangerous. If you change back, Moony could bite you or scratch you, and then you'd be in a world of trouble. No. I won't take that chance with you."

"Please?"

"No. Please let it drop."

"Yes, Padfoot." Harry wasn't happy about this. He wanted to step into his father's shoes by keeping Moony company during his transformation.

As the hour approached, Harry looked anxiously at Moony, whose face was beginning to grimace with pain.

"It's time, Padfoot," Moony said with effort.

"Let's go."

Harry also stood and followed the two men across the kitchen to the special protected room Padfoot had established to contain his friend when the madness within was summoned out by the full moon. Padfoot glanced back.

"Harry, you're not coming in with us. Now is not the time to talk about it again."

"I know," Harry replied, "but I'm still going to be here. I'll be right outside the door. _In_ my other form, thank you very much. I'm going to prove I can hold it all night."

Despite himself, Sirius laughed. "As you wish, Harry."

The door clanged shut and the retaining bar dropped. Sirius spoke the words that activated the magical containment.

Harry concentrated on his inner animal and focused on the change. When he opened his eyes again, it was as- as- as whatever creature he was. They still hadn't figured it out precisely.

It wasn't that hard to hold on to his form. He barely needed to think about it. So long as he avoided thinking about his human body, he could stay this way. He had to constantly keep the image of the animal in his mind when he thought about how he would move.

Sirius was probably right that he wasn't quite ready yet. He had promised Harry that once true Mastery was achieved, holding the form took no effort at all. Harry still slipped once in awhile -- once in a great while -- but Sirius wouldn't accept anything less than perfection before he allowed Harry to join them.

The reason for that soon became apparent. The full moon rose, and Moony began to howl in pain as his body transformed not of its own volition. Harry soon smelled a new creature in the cell, and it was all he could do to keep from running away in a bid to preserve his own skin.

_No_ , Harry told himself. _There's a magical shield and a thick door between us. I'm in no danger._ The panic receded, and he was able to stay by the door.

There was another growl now. Padfoot was talking to Moony. _Sit down and be quiet_ , was the message.

_Run, chase, tear, kill. Kill._

_Not today._

After a few minutes, the blood-thirsty beast seemed to mellow a bit.

_Why no run? Why here in small space?_

_Protect._

_Protect._ The real Moony seemed to emerge a bit more. _Protect young. Cub._

_Puppy_ , corrected Padfoot.

Harry sat up and chattered irritably at the both of them. _I am here! I am not a cub! I am not a puppy!_

The night passed in relative predictability, if not quiet. There were long periods of silence punctuated with moments of absolute horror as Moony would lose control of himself and shriek and howl like ten thousand devils. Having Padfoot and Harry there helped him keep his human mind somewhat, but he was still a werewolf. Then he would fight back the madness, push down the beast within, and whimper with pain. Then Moony would manage to control the pain and lay down again to await the next explosion of rage.

Harry's own control slipped a few times, to his deep chagrin. Though it was impossible to sleep when the noise was happening, Harry began to drift off during a particularly long lull. He snored once, and the alien noise in his ears startled him so much that he jumped awake and flashed back into his human form. Berating himself, Harry tried to instantly resume his animal form, and was frustrated to take tens of seconds to get it right. He was wide awake now, adrenaline pumping through his veins. He couldn't fall asleep. Not yet. A true master could sleep in animal shape.

Despite his resolve, as the adrenaline thinned from his bloodstream, his eyes began to grow heavy once more. Harry stood up and began to pace around the area in front of the door. Yes, if he kept moving, he would stay awake. Walking around aimlessly in circles like he was on patrol was very tiring, and he found himself slowing and eventually stopping. He curled up on the floor, determined to just take a small rest.

"Master Harry?"

Blearily, Harry came back to the world. He opened his eyes and choked off a scream as he beheld two gigantic eyes and a gnarled nose mere inches from his face.

"Kreacher!"

The old house elf's skin was a collection of wrinkles, and his huge bat ears had white hair growing out of them. He bowed low, nose to the floor.

"Master Harry, is you wanting breakfast?" Kreacher asked in his gurgling voice that sounded like frogs croaking.

Harry groaned and stretched his sore muscles. Sleeping on the stone floor of the kitchen had done no favours for his back.

"Yes, Kreacher, I would like breakfast. So would Sirius and Remus. Scrambled eggs, sausages, bacon, wheat toast with butter, wheat toast with huckleberry jam, orange juice, milk, and coffee." Sirius and Remus would need the coffee to face the day in any sort of good humour.

Kreacher bowed again, touching his crooked nose to the stone floor. "Kreacher hears and obeys," he said, and went to the cabinets where he began to wave his hands around, causing breakfast to prepare itself.

Harry got to his feet and sat at the table. Kreacher served the juice immediately, and Harry sipped at it thankfully.

With a few magic words and a loud clank, the protections of the full moon room were undone. Sirius and Remus walked out, looking haggard and weary. The full moon had set early in the morning, letting the wolf get some sleep, but he didn't change back until sunrise.

"Good morning," Harry said thickly.

The two men grunted and took their cups wordlessly. Remus drank his all at one go. Kreacher refilled the cup instantly and added cream and sugar without needing to ask. He had made Remus a lot of cups of coffee and knew exactly how he took it. It had also been quite some time since he'd tried to slip Remus any silver flatware.

"Good morning, Harry," Remus said, sipping at his fresh cup.

Sirius took a large swig and shook himself, as though he were shaking off water in his dog form.

"Ah, that's the ticket. Good morning, Harry. Sleep well?"

"I wasn't asleep," Harry fibbed, feeling the tips of his ears going a bit red.

"Then I must have heard someone else snoring," Sirius teased back. "Maybe you should have had some of this coffee last night."

"I'm getting better," Harry said.

"That you are. I'm very proud of you, you know. There's not many fourteen year old wizards who could achieve what you've done."

He'd said it before, but it still made Harry feel all warm inside when his godfather praised him like this. It was what a child ought to get from his guardian, what his parents would have given him had things gone differently. It was love.

"I'm not there yet," Harry demured.

"Near enough," Sirius said. "Almost a man. Fifteen in less than a month. Remus, we need to plan his birthday party. I want to do the swimming pool idea this year."

"That could be fun," Remus replied. "Have you figured out how to handle security?"

"No, not yet. I suppose I could Side-Along all the guests here."

"That would be quite exhausting. You'd Splinch in about a half-dozen trips."

"There is that." Sirius did not sound enthused at the prospect of Splinching himself.

"Surely you're not going to tell the Secret to all those guests either."

"No, certainly not." Sirius had put the Fidelius Charm on Grimmauld Place in the week since the return of Voldemort. It was the only magical protection the house had lacked, already being heavily booby-trapped from outside incursions and Unplottable to boot, and now it was their sanctuary. Only Sirius, Harry, and Remus knew the Secret.

"Then really the only way to have a party is outside the house. There's no place that's safe."

"We'll figure something out. Harry's fifteenth birthday should be a wild time. Remember James'?"

"How could I forget?" Remus asked. "Penelope Davis was hanging from the chandelier taking her shirt off when McGonagall walked in. She was not a very happy Head of House that night."

"How exactly did this Penelope get up on the light fixture?" Harry asked.

"James was drunk and thought he'd be funny. I remember we were all impressed at his control even while completely cocked."

"Maybe we could ask Dumbledore to use Hogwarts. It's certainly safe enough."

"Do you think he'll say yes?" Harry asked.

"It can't hurt to try. We'll ask when we go to the Order meeting. That's tomorrow night." Sirius had all but said that Harry would be going to the meeting as well. As Order Headquarters was currently Hogwarts, Harry would be safe there.

They hoped.


	2. The Secret of Malfoy Manor

It was the night of the first meeting of the Order of the Phoenix. Harry's parents had been a part of the Order during the last war. They had fought Voldemort when the Ministry had collapsed from within. They had thrice defied him. That was why they had been targeted for termination. Harry wanted to follow in their footsteps.

Harry's need to avenge his parents, which he'd had ever since Hagrid had told him about the true nature of their deaths, had built with every new bit of knowledge he acquired. With Voldemort back to life, that directionless anger had found a focus point.

It helped to talk about it. Sirius always listened whenever Harry talked about how much he wanted to fight. He wanted to be useful in whatever way he could. Sirius understood that, which was why he'd allowed Harry to go to the meeting. Harry couldn't have been more thankful.

Sirius didn't treat him like a kid. Harry respected Sirius' authority, skill, and wisdom, and Sirius returned that by speaking with Harry maturely, recognizing his cognizance. They didn't always agree. Harry was a headstrong teenager, and Sirius was the protective guardian. There were natural conflicts. Most of the time, Harry was so thankful to have a real home that he tried to behave.

In Harry's opinion, it was not near soon enough for the first meeting. Nearly a month had passed since Voldemort had announced his return by conquering Azkaban. They should have been moving much faster. The Ministry was acting. They had all sorts of initiatives going. What had this grandiose Order accomplished?

Harry had been practically crawling out of his skin with anticipation for a week, ever since Sirius had allowed him to go. The day of the meeting finally arrived, and the hours passed agonizingly slow. He suffered silently through lunch, spent the afternoon in his Animagus form, wolfed down his dinner, and hurried up to his room to grab his travelling cloak.

Sirius and Remus took their leisurely time to finish dinner. Harry waited in the drawing room in front of the fireplace. The Triwizard Cup glimmered in the firelight, the red reflections mingling with the blue eminations. Time ticked slowly by. Then Harry heard voices coming up the way.

Remus was telling a joke. "Then the vampire said, 'I'll have him when he's done having a Whirling Blood Dancer.'"

Sirius cracked up laughing. "So what'd the bartender say to that?"

"He quoted them a price for a room."

"You _were_ in a rough part of town."

"I saw two more fights even _after_ that. Fortunately Dung showed up at that point. Never agree to let him set the meeting. Trust me."

"Who's Dung?" Harry asked

"Mundungus Fletcher," Remus replied. "He's a rather unpleasant chap. Sort of a con man. Sells a lot of things that aren't properly his, things he claims he found, recovered, or scavenged. Deals with a lot of unsavory characters in his line of work, and he's a positive sink of all sorts of interesting little bits of information."

"What's he doing in the Order?" The Order was supposed to be made up of people like James, Lily, Sirius, Remus, and Moody. This man Dung sounded like a proper criminal.

"He's true to Dumbledore," Remus said with a shrug, "and he's useful."

Harry thought that sounded rather Slytherin.

Sirius held out the box of Floo powder. "It's time to go, Harry."

"Finally!"

Most of Hogwarts was restricted from the external Floo network, but the Headmaster's office was one of the access points. Remus went first, then Harry, and Sirius last.

The place never ceased to amaze Harry, who had been in here only a handful of times. The room was circular and very large. The walls were covered with portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses, all of whom were snoozing gently in their frames. A number of curious silver instruments stood on spindle-legged tables, whirring and emitting little puffs of smoke. Sitting on a shelf behind the desk was a shabby, tattered wizard's hat -- the Sorting Hat. On a golden perch behind the door sat Fawkes the phoenix with brilliant scarlet feathers and beautiful golden plumage, a gold beak and gold talons.

Professor Dumbledore was waiting for them, seated at his great, big, claw-footed desk with Professor Snape, himself sitting in one of the guest chairs. They were chatting quietly.

"Sirius, Remus, welcome." His eyes lighted on Harry for a moment. "Harry, it is good to see you."

"Hello, Professor. Good evening," Harry said pleasantly. If he was going to be allowed to join the Order, he needed to be mature.

"Sirius, could you not find a babysitter?" Dumbledore joked lightly. "Or perhaps trust Harry to remain at home alone?"

"Harry wants to join the Order. He wants to fight. He asked to come, and I didn't think I should deny him the chance to help strike back at the one who made him an orphan. Do you?"

"Do you think it wise, Sirius? War is a most messy business."

"He's already involved, whether you want him to be or not, Albus," Sirius replied, his voice starting to get louder, "or have you already forgotten about what happened during the Third Task?"

"I have not."

"Voldemort has involved him in this."

"We should seek to minimize that, not throw all caution to the wind and charge headlong forward," Professor Snape interjected in a biting tone.

"Was that a crack against me or Gryffindor?"

"Perhaps both." Snape had just a trace of a smirk on his face.

"Ecumenical as always, Severus," Remus observed.

"Lupin," Snape said by way of greeting.

"It is good to see you still hale and hearty."

"As much as he ever gets, anyway," Sirius added.

"Sirius!" Harry objected.

"Well he is very pale, isn't he? Look at him!"

Thankfully the bickering was interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Arrive at your leisure," Dumbledore called out.

The door opened, and Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy entered. She looked beautiful, as she always did, but her face was thinner. It was hard to fight in a cocktail gown, so she had set aside her fine dresses for more appropriate garb. Her ordinary robes were Slytherin green and silver. Mr. Malfoy looked terrible. His eyes were shadowed, and he had also lost weight. He had been going out into the world to politick, and he had needed to stay on the move. His fine black robes seemed a little sturdier than he normally wore.

The Malfoys had been living at Hogwarts since the fall of Azkaban. Mr. Malfoy had cast the Fidelius Charm over Malfoy Manor. The spell captured the knowledge of where Malfoy Manor could be found and contained it in the soul of the Secret Keeper. He had told Harry the Secret right before Side-Along Apparating him away from Azkaban. Now he was the only one aside from the Malfoy family who knew the location, but Mr. Malfoy shared a connection to Voldemort through the Dark Mark. Voldemort used it to summon the Death Eaters. Who was to say he couldn't do more? If he could penetrate the Secret, the Malfoy family would die.

"Ah, you're here," Dumbledore said cheerily. He gestured to the candy dish on the corner of the desk. "May I offer you a lemon drop?"

"Yes, thank you, Albus," Mr. Malfoy said. He scooped up one of the hard yellow candies and popped it in his mouth. "I haven't had a sweet in weeks."

"Let's begin. Severus?"

Harry blinked. Where was the rest of the Order?

Professor Snape said, "I have convinced the Dark Lord that I am his faithful servant. He believes I am here to spy upon you and the Order, deceiving you into thinking I am spying on him."

"A complicated deception," Sirius noted.

"Quite. It took some time, but he has accepted my story for now. Doubtless he will soon come up with a way for me to prove myself. Probably some ritual at Samhain. He does so enjoy the act of sacrifice. I will participate, of course. There is no other who can get so close to him."

Snape's voice was neutral, but Harry heard the disgust and loathing he had for himself that he had to dirty his hands with the blood of innocents. It was necessary, so damned necessary, but the deeds of war could mark the victor just as the loser.

"I am sorry that you must make this sacrifice, Severus. I wish it were otherwise."

"As do I, Albus, but we do what we must."

"Some do more. Thank you." Dumbledore turned to Mr. Malfoy. "Severus, Sirius, and I have determined that the Fidelius Charm you cast is fatally flawed, Lucius. You have a Secret to Keep, but the Dark Mark upon your arm betrays you. Your presence in Malfoy Manor renders the protections insubstantial."

"When I am not there?" Mr. Malfoy asked intently.

"So far as we can determine, the house should be inviolate."

Mr. Malfoy sighed deeply. "Then for the sake of my family, I can never go home."

"I can offer you the shelter of Hogwarts only until the students return. Then there would be far too many risks associated. Voldemort does not need any more incentives to attack the school."

"Sirius," Harry whispered. His mind was working very fast now. A crazy plan was taking shape in his mind, but he'd have to talk really quickly in order to carry it off. "If Mister Malfoy needs a place to stay, why don't we offer it to him?"

"What, rent him a flat?"

"What about Grimmauld Place?"

"Let Lucius Malfoy under my roof?" Sirius sounded so scandalized, Harry might have asked him to whip the Queen naked through the streets of London.

"Sirius!" Harry let his disapproval show. "He's in this situation because he saved me from Voldemort. A little sympathy, please?"

Sirius chewed on his lip for a moment. "I suppose it couldn't hurt that much."

An owl flew in the window of Dumbledore's office and dropped a note on his desk. Dumbledore scanned the contents briefly. He picked up a quill and penned a neat reply.

"Excuse me, Lucius," Dumbledore said when Mr. Malfoy paused for breath. "We will have to set aside our business in a moment. Mister Filch has caught a student trying to enter the gates. This is most unusual, for even the most studious Ravenclaw and ambitious Slytherin enjoys their summer holidays."

"Who is this student, and how can it be more important than me protecting my life? Could I not cut off my arm and the Mark with it?"

Snape replied. "It would only manifest elsewhere. It is not a mark on the body so much as on the soul."

Dumbledore shook his head. "We will pause. Our guest is Theodore Nott."

Harry jumped in his skin. Professor Snape sat up straight in his chair. Slytherin student and Head of House glanced at each other.

"Theo?" Harry asked. "What was he doing trying to break into Hogwarts?"

"Did he say what he wanted?" Snape inquired intensely.

"Only that he needed to speak with me. He would say no more. Mister Filch is bringing him up. Please continue, Lucius."

"If my manor is a safe place, then perhaps it would be of some use to you, Dumbledore. As you say, I should not remain here past the summer. The Order can hardly operate out of a school either. As a governor, I cannot accept undue risk to the children."

"That is most considerate of you, Lucius," Dumbledore said politely. "Your offer is most generous. Thank you. I know how much your home means to you."

"I will give all that I have in order that my blood may live without fear," Mr. Malfoy declared, and Harry saw the memory of pain in his eyes.

"Yes, for blood," Dumbledore murmured, "but it still leaves us with the question of what to do with you. You cannot go home without unlocking the Secret. I cannot let you stay for long. You will not survive long on your own."

Harry jabbed Sirius in the side. Sirius grunted. Both Dumbledore and Mr. Malfoy glanced in his direction.

"Yes, Sirius?" Dumbledore inquired, his blue eyes twinkling slightly.

"Umm," Sirius stalled, looking sideways at Harry. "Well, I suppose there's nothing else for it. The House of Black has harboured more than its fair share of Dark souls. Lucius, if you will accept my charity, I'll let you stay with me."

Mr. Malfoy clearly did not like the word charity, as a pained expression crossed his face. It vanished quickly enough, but Harry caught it.

"Cousin, now it is _you_ who is being most generous. Thank you. I accept your hospitality."

"Well then," Dumbledore said, sounding quite pleased. "That's all settled. Excellent."

Remus and Professor Snape were both staring at Sirius in disbelief. Harry smirked. One way or another, he _would_ get these adults to get along.

"Now, what other business do we have?"

"Can you tell us what's going on with the Ministry?" Sirius asked.

"Minister Fudge has taken a hard line," Mr. Malfoy replied. "I had quite a time convincing the snivelling little man of the need to stand up and fight, but he eventually saw reason when I told him of the Dark Lord's plans for him personally. I think it was the idea of being hung with his own entrails that did him in."

"Lucius, must you?" Mrs. Malfoy asked, as she turned a slight shade of green.

"I must, my love." He paused for a moment and just gazed lovingly at her. Then he sighed and continued, "The Aurors are on full alert, with training of the current class of recruits accelerated. We anticipate a surge of new recruits, so there must be more funds allocated to facilities and material. They intend to establish a pre-training crash course in the required disciplines, with the option to retake the NEWTs, to increase the pool of eligible wizards. The numbers associated these needs made Fudge nearly faint more times than my descriptions of the messy death the Dark Lord has in store for him."

"I'm sure," Dumbledore said, trying not to smile and failing. "Politicians do so hate to spend money."

"Fudge certainly treats every Knut as his own when it comes time to discuss the budget."

"The governors are the same way," Dumbledore said blandly. "Oh, the rousing shouting matches I've had with them."

Mr. Malfoy didn't look amused. "It is pointless to take cheap shots, Dumbledore. I was generally always in favour of spending money, just not in the areas you thought it should be spent. More teachers, better teachers, other subjects! You wanted to let Hagrid bring in dragons, and-"

"Terribly misunderstood creatures, dragons," Dumbledore interjected.

Mr. Malfoy took a deep breath and composed himself.

"I have spoken to many members of the Wizengamot in the past few weeks as well. Most are afraid, but enough are willing to fight who threatened to shame the rest that we are assured of public support for the Ministry and the new policies. The curfew isn't popular, but it's accepted as necessary. There is a lot of effort being put into developing and publishing safety protocols. Some of it is useful, most of it is just feel-good drivel. The only way to truly be safe is the Fidelius Charm. Unfortunately it's highly advanced magic that not everyone can cast. I think there will a substantial profit to be made for any freelance Charmer who has that spell in his catalogue.

"Additionally, acting on Severus' advice, I have made efforts to restrict the sale of certain potions ingredients that can be used irresponsibly. The list he gave me was quite lengthy."

"What sort of potions, Severus?" asked Dumbledore.

"There are far too many to discuss now," Snape answered. "Suffice to say, I know many of the potions the Dark Lord will require me to make, and I anticipate many others. Artificial shortages of crucial ingredients will hinder his plans. It is already quite difficult to find all the components for Polyjuice Potion, for instance. We _must_ restrict the ability of the Dark Lord to make this potion, or he will wreck havoc with it."

"You're fighting Voldemort with economics?" Sirius asked, sounding astonished.

"We fight him on all levels."

There was a knock on the door. "Cross the threshold," Dumbledore called out.

The door opened, and Mister Filch dragged Theo into the office. Harry's smartest friend looked horrible. His skin was pale, his eyes were dark and baggy, and he was thinner than Harry had ever seen him. He'd always been a bit weedy, but now he seemed a mere shade of his former self.

"This is him, Headmaster," Filch said in his gravelly voice. "This is the one I caught. Should I take him down to the dungeons for a good hanging up by his thumbs? He'll talk, oh yes."

"I do not think that we shall require such drastic means, Mister Filch. Thank you."

Filch glowered at Theo once more before turning and leaving, the dustmop that was Mrs. Norris hot on his heels.

"Welcome, Theodore. I understand you wanted to speak to me."

Theo looked around at all the people. He'd obviously expected to meet privately with Dumbledore. He saw Professor Snape.

"Professor."

"Mister Nott. I heard of your arrival and set aside my brewing. What prompts one of my students to break into school?"

Theo glanced around the room again. Would he speak in front of the Malfoys? Remus and Sirius he'd been friendly enough with, but that was before the return of Voldemort.

"Well, I was going to tell Harry eventually anyway," Theo said with resignation plain in his voice. "Fine. I've come seeking sanctuary. I don't want to be a Death Eater."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He'd feared so very much that Theo would side with his father and bow to Voldemort. Harry had tried to persuade Theo before school let out, but the question had ultimately been left unanswered. Now Theo had made a decision, and it was the right one. Thank Merlin!

"This is indeed most fortuitous news," Dumbledore said seriously, stroking his long beard, "but did it really require breaking into the castle? An owl could have communicated your intentions much more easily."

"Probably, but I needed to come immediately. It wasn't safe, you understand."

"How so?"

Theo took another long breath. "As I'm sure you know, my father was one of the Dark Lord's most valued servants. He prizes knowledge, and so my father's scholarly tendencies made him a great resource. It was that way in the last war and it looked to be the same in this war."

"You sound disappointed in him," Dumbledore said kindly.

"He made his choice," Theo said heatedly. "It was his right. He made the choice for me too. The first night back home, he was already plotting his uses for me. He wanted to use my friendship with Harry. I was supposed to get Harry to visit, and then we were going to ambush him."

Sirius inhaled sharply. Harry looked over and met Sirius' eyes. Would they have fallen for it? Would Harry have wanted to believe in Theo so much that he would have walked into a trap? He shuddered.

"I didn't want to do that. Harry's not a bad sort, and lots of exciting stuff does tend to happen around him, which is fun. I tried to argue with him, like we always argued about everything. Discussion, debate, argument! That was how he raised me! To think! Consider all the angles before acting!"

Theo's voice grew more passionate as he spoke, and then his intensity dropped to nothing. His next words were barely a whisper.

"This time it was different. He turned his wand on me."

Theo began to shake, both in body and voice. "I've never felt anything so awful. My own father! How could he? How could he? When he took the curse off, I lay there on the floor. I couldn't lift my head out of this pool of my own blood and puke. I think I pissed myself too. Of course I promised that I would obey without question. I got away from him and cleaned myself up."

Harry was gripped by the awful story. He hung on Theo's every agonizing word. How could a man torture his own son, his own blood? Once again, the shadow of the Dursleys rose up in his mind. Aunt Petunia had fully participated in Harry's abuse, despite their shared blood. He had no doubts they would have Crucio'd him in a heartbeat if they could.

"Everything was fine later that night for dinner. He never even tasted the nightshade in his wine." Theo's voice was hollow and dispassionate. "He didn't take very long to die. He was an old man anyway. Weak. He looked so much smaller with his eyes closed."

"By all that's holy," Remus murmured. "The boy poisoned his own father!"

"Patricide!" Mr. Malfoy gasped.

"My dear boy," Dumbledore said gently.

"We were supposed to be a team," Theo cried, hot tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. "Just the two of us! Us against the world! How could he turn on me like that? How could he put that curse on me? Why?"

Theo began to sob, deep choking cries of pain and remembered agony. He had nobody to turn to, nobody to comfort him. Harry couldn't stand it anymore and went to his side. He placed a tentative hand on Theo's shaking shoulder and squeezed silently.

"I'm sorry, Harry. I'm so sorry. I was going to do it. I was going to help capture you for the Dark Lord."

"I understand," Harry said, and he did understand. The bonds between father and son may have been a mystery to Harry once upon a time, but he was slowly learning. Sirius was the closest thing Harry had to a father of his own, and he readily listened to any plan his godfather came up with simply because it came from Sirius.

"I've got nowhere to go," Theo continued brokenly. "I've been trying to figure out what to do ever since that night, but I don't know what to do. Then just now, Death Eaters tripped the alarm spells. I didn't wait to chat with them. I got to the Floo and went to Hogsmeade, then I came here."

"You should go to the hospital wing," Remus advised, sounding much like he had in the classroom. "The after-effects of Cruciatus are plain to see. You need medical attention."

"Yes, Professor," Theo said, still sounding dazed.

"Madam Pomfrey will not ask any questions," Dumbledore said.

"She never does," Remus replied. "Thank Merlin for her skill."

"Severus-"

Professor Snape put an arm around Theo's trembling shoulders and guided him from the office.

The silence was deafening. Harry wanted to go with Theo, but for reasons he didn't quite process, he stayed behind. He would go later after Madam Pomfrey had done her magic. She wouldn't let him see Theo until that was over anyway at the _very_ least.

So Harry stayed. He looked up at Remus. "Will he be okay?"

Remus nodded slowly. "Yes, even delayed treatment is better than none. In time, he would have recovered on his own. It is a painful route."

"I never thought the boy capable of this," Sirius said sadly. "I rather like Theo. He helped me get my mother off the wall. He's a good lad."

"Patricide," Mr. Malfoy said again, still seeming stunned. "By Merlin the Time Traveller, what is this world coming to?"

"A very sad day," Dumbledore replied, shaking his head. "I fear it may not be the last horrible act we see in this war."

"There were many in the last," Remus said, his voice far away. "I don't think he's changed his ways. They were working quite well for him last time until-"

His eyes slid to Harry. "Until" was Lily sacrificing herself for her infant son, her love protecting him from the terrible hatred of the Killing Curse.

"Until we learned the one weakness he has," Dumbledore said. "Love is anathema to him, and it can harm him. Were we able to fashion love into a weapon, we might slay him, but such is not love's way. Love protects."

"If it is not too indelicate," Mr. Malfoy said, "may I suggest that we discuss how Timothy Nott's death affects any strategy? Stomach-turning as it may be, the boy has given us a great boon. Nott was a sink of knowledge."

"You sick bastard," Sirius croaked. "How can you think strategy when a child has just had to become a killer?"

"I weep for young Theodore, who has lost his innocence too soon; however, I keep control of myself, cousin. Though I also have the urge to comfort him, my comforts are more long-term. Rather than hug the boy, I will find him shelter and refuge. He is here at Hogwarts, and all his physical needs are met. He has two friends in the castle, and his emotional needs are met. I will convey my feelings to Theodore in a private setting and in a manner suiting the gravity of his deeds. There will come a time when he will need someone to tell him that they understand and that it was the right thing to do. When that time comes, I will be there for him."

"The right thing!" Sirius barked.

"Yes, the right thing! I would expect no less from my sons were I to put that curse on them, and I would deserve it! One does not treat blood this way," Mr. Malfoy said, as though stating the perfectly obvious.

"But Muggles, that's perfectly fine," Sirius said blandly.

"Sirius!" Harry interjected.

"I plan how to react to changing situations," Mr. Malfoy continued, ignoring Sirius' crack about Muggles. "Nott's death is something that could change the balance of Light and Dark. It will certainly create a struggle amongst the Death Eaters. Being the Dark Lord's scholar had all sorts of perks, the least of which is that underlings listened when he spoke, because the Dark Lord often listened too. If one irritated the scholar, he might mention that one had interrupted a critical experiment or ruined a valuable text. It happened several times, and the Dark Lord flew into a rage whenever it happened. The results were fairly graphic. The scholar's demise has profound implications."

"Lucius is right," Mrs. Malfoy contributed. "Nott had no apprentice to speak of, so whomever can convince the Dark Lord that he is the most worthy scholar will be in a most favourable position."

"You- you- you Slytherins!" Sirius sputtered. "You cold-blooded snakes!"

Harry wanted to get upset. He hadn't shown the immediate compassion and gone with Theo, choosing to stay and hear more of the meeting. Did that make him more Slytherin?

"Sirius, calm down," Remus advised, putting one hand on his shoulder. "They've always been practical bastards. You know that."

"But this-"

"You're not going to change them. It's just how they are."

Mr. Malfoy looked at Remus. "Likewise we cannot seem to make you Gryffindors understand that sometimes discretion is the better part of valour. We all have things we should like to change about others."

Sirius jumped to his friend's defence. "Ice water is too hot to run in your veins, Lucius. It's a wonder you don't hibernate."

"It's amazing your hot temper hasn't gotten you killed yet," Mr. Malfoy sneered. "We cannot afford to lose focus. How can we best exploit Nott's death?"

"Could we influence who his replacement will be?" Remus asked Dumbledore.

"Unlikely. Severus still has yet to prove his worth to Voldemort. He is accepted back, but he has yet be tested. Until Voldemort knows his loyalty is certain, he has no sway over him."

"That is unfortunate," Remus said, stating the obvious. "Feeding him false knowledge might be useful. He'd probably see through it. Information, however, we must take full advantage of."

"Yes. Well, I don't think there's anything else we can accomplish here tonight. May I offer anyone a nightcap?"

Everyone politely declined.

The meeting of the Order, such as it was, was over.

Mr. Malfoy stood up and held out a hand to Mrs. Malfoy. She took it and rose gracefully. They looked into each others' eyes, husband and wife. The tightness around his eyes relaxed slightly. Her pursed lips curled into a small but hopeful smile.

"Let us go, Lucius," she said softly. "You must see your sons, and I would say my farewells in private."

He nodded. "Cousin, I will meet you at the castle gate. Oh, by the way-" he pulled his wand and cast a Deafening Spell on all of the portraits of past Headmasters and Headmistresses. "Can't have them overhearing this. Malfoy Manor may be found at One, High Street, Wilton."

"Of course it is," Sirius replied. His tone was neutral. He kept his eyes slightly elevated, looking directly at nobody. "Take your time."

The Malfoys left, shutting the door behind them. It was Dumbledore, Sirius, Remus, and Harry in the headmaster's office.

"Albus?"

"Yes, Sirius?"

"As you know, Harry's birthday is at the end of the month."

"I am aware."

"A young man doesn't turn fifteen every day."

"I shall interpret that figuratively and not literally."

"But the question arises of how to celebrate properly. Grimmauld Place is locked up moreso than Gringotts, and Malfoy Manor the same way."

"With good cause," Dumbledore noted. "It is a very dangerous world."

"Any public gathering is wrought with security concerns."

"Naturally. What are you driving at, Sirius?"

"I want you to open the school gates for a party. All of the parents will feel safe bringing their children here. There's little need for complicated protective spells to be set up because they're already in place."

"A party?"

"Indubitably. What better thing than a party to lift morale? Show people we're not going to let a pesky Dark Lord interfere with living our lives. What do you say?"

"Sirius, surely you must be pulling my leg. If I grant your request, do you know how many hundreds of solicitations I will receive? I am already asked to host many functions here at Hogwarts. My answer must be no."

"These are not normal times, Albus. People still want to gather together, but they also want to be assured of safety. If you can provide it-"

"I am not a slave to the wants of others," Dumbledore said pleasantly. "Let me put it to you another way. In this specific case, you're going to be inviting Harry's friends from Slytherin, correct?"

"Yes."

"There is nothing wrong with that. Friends are wonderful gifts from the Creator of All Things, but how many of those children have parents who answered the call of their master?" Dumbledore asked. "A great many, I am afraid. You would have me open the school to them without knowing where they stand? Such a risk, Sirius. No, I cannot countenance such action."

Sirius frowned, but he did not reply. "Fine. We'll figure something else out." He stood up. "Be in touch."

"I will. Be well, Sirius, Remus, Harry."

"Bye, sir."

"Well, scratch that idea," Sirius rued as they walked down the spiral staircase and through the hallways. "Time for Plan S."

"What's Plan S?" Harry asked.

"I know Plan G is to ask Gringotts," Remus said, "but I'm not aware of Plan S."

"Where did we used to conceal all manner of illicit activity?" Sirius said.

"The Shrieking Shack," Remus replied.

"Precisely."

"But Dumbledore just told us he won't open the gates."

"Is the Shack protected by anti-Apparition Charms?" Sirius sounded like he knew the answer already.

"No. How many people do you think you could Side-Along?"

"Probably no more than half a dozen."

"Myself as well. We'd have to keep the guest list short. I think if we asked Lucius and Narcissa, we could easily bring all of Harry's guests inside. We wouldn't have to tell anyone where they were going."

"Sounds like a good plan," Sirius said. "Harry, think of who you want to invite. No more than a dozen."

"Okay, Sirius. I want to see Theo before we go."

"Of course. We'll meet you at the gate."

Harry headed to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey was bustling about. She was a squat little witch who brooked no nonsense in her ward. Harry always spoke politely to her, because she and she alone determined when he was allowed to cease being her guest.

"Ah, hello, Mister Potter. A pleasure to see you."

"You as well, Madam. How is he?"

"He'll recover. You can see him if you want. Keep things quiet, or so help me-"

"Yes, Madam!" Harry said hastily.

Theo was sleeping. It could not have been a natural sleep, for he was far too restful. Professor Snape sat in a chair by his bed, keeping vigil.

"Hello, sir."

"Mister Potter."

"Madam says he's going to be okay."

"He should have sought treatment sooner. He suffered needlessly."

Harry didn't know how to reply to that. "I'm sure he wasn't thinking clearly."

"Certainly not. Nor will he for a very long time."

Theo had poisoned his own father. Harry could barely think the words in his head. He couldn't imagine where Theo's mind was right now. He ached for his friend, and he keenly felt his own sense of helplessness. How could he help his friend get through this?

"What he did was right," Professor Snape said, as if reading his mind. "It is the paramount right of the individual to defend oneself from assault. Do not ask him about it. Do not judge him. Let him speak when he is ready to speak. Be near him and be nice to him. Let him know without words that you are there for him. When he is ready, he will share."

"Yes, sir." There was nothing else to say.

Harry sat there quietly, watching Theo, watching Professor Snape. Theo lay still in the hospital bed, the faint rising and falling of his chest the only indicator that he was still amongst the living. Snape sat silently as well. He had inexplicably drawn his hood up to conceal his face. He held his hands folded in front of him, knuckles resting on his chin.

Time ticked by. Then there was a noise in the entrance to the hospital wing. The door opened to admit Draco.

"Blimey, look at him," Draco marvelled, his eyes on Theo. "'Lo, Harry. 'Lo, Professor."

"Hi, Draco. Your dad told you?"

"Yeah, he did. I can't believe it."

"Me either. His own dad."

"That will be enough, you two," Professor Snape said disdainfully. "As I told Mister Potter, I will now tell you, Mister Malfoy. Mister Nott's action is fully justified. I will not hear any criticism of it."

"Oh no, sir," Draco hastily said. "I meant I couldn't believe his own dad put that spell on him."

"It could just as easily have been you, Mister Malfoy."

"Sir?"

"Had your father chosen differently, it might have been you ordered to lure Mister Potter into a trap. How would you have chosen? What might your father have done to insure your obedience?"

Draco thought about that for a moment. He made no reply.

"Theodore has a great many issues to work through. If you are his friends, you will support him and have patience with him. Look out for him. He will speak when he is ready, and pressuring him prematurely will be counter-productive."

"Sir, I promise I won't try to get him to talk. I wouldn't even know where to start."

"The right words will come when they are needed. When the time is right."

Harry patted Theo's shoulder encouragingly. "If your dad is done saying goodbye, then I should go meet them all at the gate."

"Yeah. Sorry we can't visit longer. I've been going out of my head around here. There's only so much exploring one can do on one's own. Which reminds me, I found this really nifty room I want to show you."

"Next time."

"Next time," Draco agreed.

"Bye. Bye, Professor."

"Good-bye, Mister Potter."

"Bye, Harry."

Harry left the hospital wing, saying farewell to Madam Pomfrey on his way out. It was a short jaunt from there to the front gate of the castle where Sirius, Remus, and Mr. Malfoy were waiting.

"Ah, Harry," said Sirius. "Good. How's Theo?"

"He's resting comfortably."

"Good, good. We'll come again when he's feeling better. Are you ready?"

"Yes."

The four wizards made their way out from the castle gate and down the path to the entrance to the grounds. The iron gates swung open at their approach.

"Lucius?"

"Yes, cousin?"

Sirius leaned in to whisper in Mr. Malfoy's ear. It was the Secret.

"Of course it is," Mr. Malfoy replied. "Thank you, cousin."

Harry took Sirius' arm as the three men Apparated back to Grimmauld Place. With three slight ' _pop_ 's, four people suddenly appeared in the drawing room. The Black family tree decorated the wall, on a tapestry affixed there with a Permanent Sticking Charm. 

"Well, here we are," Sirius said blandly. "I'll call Kreacher to make up your room, Lucius. Is the basement all right?"

Mr. Malfoy twitched slightly. "Cousin, please, spare me your attempts at humour. You are my host. I am defenceless before you. Should you choose to offer me quarters in the basement, I will thank you for your generosity, but please do not ask me to laugh when the joke is at my expense."

Sirius smirked. "You continue to surprise me, Lucius. You actually _do_ know how to be humble."

"Grateful, Cousin. Gracefully grateful. A gentleman gives gratitude as it is warranted."

"Well, not the dungeons, perhaps," Sirius said speculatively. He began to stroke his chin with his index finger. "I suppose you can have one of the bedrooms on the third floor. There's an empty one next to the loo with a ghoul in it."

"A ghoul?" Mr. Malfoy exclaimed.

"Sirius!" Harry protested. "Stop it! We got rid of the ghoul months ago, Mister Malfoy."

"I was just having a little fun, Harry. Wasn't it funny, Lucius?"

"Hysterical."

"If he thought about it for a second, he'd remember that there's a Ministry Task Force that deals with unwanted ghouls."

"So there is."

"Plus, I'm sure he's a very capable wizard, more than able to handle one pesky ghoul."

"Quite. May we continue, please?"

"Everyone's a critic," Sirius breathed. "Kreacher!"

With a bang, the wrinkle-headed house elf appeared in the sitting room. He bowed low to touch his nose to the carpet.

"Master called? How may Kreacher serve?"

With a pained expression, Sirius said, "Kreacher, please make up one of the guest rooms on the third floor for our house guest. Lucius will be staying with us until further notice."

Without even acknowledging Mr. Malfoy, Kreacher disappeared with a bang.

"Well, until that's ready, would anyone like to play cards?" Sirius asked.

"Cousin, I have something I wish to discuss with you."

"I hate it when you say that. I always think it's going to be something awful."

"Far from awful, Cousin. It concerns protecting our boys from danger."

"I'm listening."

"Do you not think it would be the height of precaution and foresight if they knew how to Apparate?"

"Underage Apparition and Apparating without a license are both criminal offences, Lucius."

"As is failure to register with the Animagus Board," Lucius said pleasantly. "You yourself failed to register for a great many years."

"That's different."

"I fail to see the difference. In fact, I would more readily forgive Harry and Draco breaking the law in this instance than you in your situation. That was to help a friend; this may mean their lives."

"There's no need to get dramatic, Lucius."

"Oh, if that isn't the pot calling the kettle black."

"The Kettleblacks died in the dragonpox epidemic of 1918."

Mr. Malfoy rolled his eyes and a slight groan escaped him. "Why are you making this difficult?"

"Because I can, Lucius. I enjoy giving you a hard time. You may have noticed this by now."

"I have. Believe me, I have. My point is that any unexpected weapons we can give the boys now will help improve their chances of survival. You must see the truth of this."

"Oh, I do. I think it's a fantastic idea, myself. I'd already thought about giving Harry lessons."

"Then we are in agreement."

"Looks like it. Which of us shall it be?"

"Both, perhaps? We shall certainly have a lot of time here together."

Sirius' face blanched.

They played cards for several minutes until Kreacher returned to announce that the guest bedroom had been made up. Mr. Malfoy stood, bowed, said good night, and departed for the third floor.

Harry, Sirius, and Remus remained.

"Moony, old friend? Would you mind giving Harry and I a few minutes alone?"

"No, not at all. Actually, I should head home. Big day tomorrow."

"Good night, Moony," Harry said.

"Good night, old friend."

Moony waved and headed for the door. When he had left, Harry looked at Padfoot. "What's up?"

"I wanted to talk about what we learned tonight. With Theo, I mean. It's pretty shocking news."

"Yeah," Harry said. "I can barely believe it. His dad put the Cruciatus on him. His own dad."

"An act of great hatred against a mere boy," Sirius said bitterly. "Such evil. The Death Eaters have learned well from their master. Voldemort does not hesitate to curse his followers."

"I know." Harry had seen it firsthand that awful night. "Poor Theo. I can't imagine being in that kind of bind. His dad was the one person he thought would be with him. He must have felt so alone. To even conceive of poisoning his dad \-- and then actually doing it! -- he must have been out of his mind with pain, fear, and desperation."

"People can do some funny things when you push them far enough."

"I guess so. I want to help him, but I'm not really sure how. I don't know what I can do."

"Just be there for him. Don't pressure him to open up. Be supportive, and he will eventually speak about it. He'll need his friends now more than ever."

"We'll be there."

"I know you will, Harry, and I'm behind you a hundred percent. If you want to offer him a place to come for school holidays, he can come here."

"Thanks, Sirius. I think he'll appreciate that."

"He got my mother off the wall. He's always welcome."


	3. Forbidden Knowledge

Getting Mr. Malfoy settled in didn't take much time at all. All of his belongings were kept in the folds and pockets of his robes. He closed the door of his guest room that Thursday night and didn't emerge again until Friday night, whence he ate some dinner and then returned to his room. He finally began a normal routine on Saturday morning, when he was the first at breakfast and cheerfully welcomed everyone to the table.

"Good morning, Mister Malfoy," Harry said, sitting down and reaching for the eggs.

"Sleep well?"

"Fine, thanks. You?"

"The best rest I've had in quite some time. Knowing that my family is safe is a great burden off my mind."

"Good morning, Harry. Lucius."

"Hi, Sirius."

"Cousin."

"Is Remus coming over today?" Harry wanted to spend more time with his former professor.

"Not until much later," Sirius said, shaking his head. "He starts his new job today."

"On a Saturday?"

"He's selling ice cream in the park. He bought the cart a few days ago. It is July, after all. It's genius, really. You're familiar with magical replication?"

"Gamp's Fourth Law."

"If you say so. If you have something, you can make more of it. So, Remus enchanted his ice cream tubs to continually replicate. He's making a killing."

"How ingenious," Mr. Malfoy said. "Quite cunning. I'm rather surprised, actually."

"I was talking about Gamp's Law with Remus the other day," Harry said. "I was explaining how I made the pillar in the sitting room."

"Perhaps that's where he got the idea?" Mr. Malfoy posed. "Once upon a time, I could have awarded points to Slytherin."

"Governors can't award points?"

"I don't believe we can. In any case, the competition for the House Cup hasn't started yet."

"Slytherin will take it again."

"I sincerely hope so."

"I look forward to seeing Harry fly again," Sirius interjected.

"Oh, Slytherin will take the Quidditch Cup too."

"Awfully confident. Some might say cocky."

"We've still got the best team at school. For one more season, at least. Most of the team is gone next year. I'm going to be the only one left."

"Then you'll be Captain," Mr. Malfoy said. "Congratulations."

"Thank you, sir. We're going to have new Beaters this year, and then I've got to replace all the Chasers and the Keeper."

"A tall order."

"It's probably going to end up being Draco, Millie, and Theo as Chasers. I have no idea who will go out for Keeper, but then I'll have to train them all to work together. There's all this pressure to hang on to the Cup," Harry continued, his tongue suddenly loose. "I don't want to be the one to lose it. Slytherin's had it for ten years. Eleven if you count this year. I don't want to be a failure."

"All great things must eventually come to an end," Sirius said. "In failure we learn and become stronger and more skilled. Experience counts. Do not be ashamed to admit that you were fairly beaten. You'll come back and take it again in seventh year. Go out in style."

"Winning is important, Harry. Whether it means rising before the sun for extra practice time or staying out past sunset to keep training. You are Slytherin. You are the best house of Hogwarts, the most cunning and creative. You have it in you to achieve great things, and if you decide you want to win the Quidditch Cup, then by Merlin, I believe you're going to figure out how to do it."

Mr. Malfoy's words boosted Harry's confidence, but Sirius' words held wisdom. As Harry thought about it, he realized that they were not incompatible. He would try with all of his skill and cleverness to win, but if he were beaten, it only meant he had to work harder and smarter.

An owl arrived at that moment. It was Shiva, the Patil family owl. He was bearing a letter, but as always would not relinquish it without being rewarded. Harry remembered what Padma had said in her first letter and held out a piece of toast. The bird snapped it up in one huge bite, cheeks bulging. He chewed several times and swallowed before opening his beak and hooting.

"More?"

Harry shoved the plate towards the owl, who began to devour the toast. He quickly untied the letter and opened it up.

 

Dear Harry,

I hope you're safe. I worry when I don't hear from you, and it's been a week. Please tell me you're all right. I want to know what's going on with you. Can you tell me where you are? Is anything happening, or is the Prophet all we know? Please, Harry. I've got to know.

Yours,

Padma  
  
---  
  
 

Well, it hadn't really been a week. Today was Saturday. He'd sent his last letter to Padma on Tuesday. She was exaggerating.

What she wanted to know, he couldn't tell her. He didn't really know much of anything that was going on aside from Mr. Malfoy's Dark Mark and the Fidelius Charm he'd cast over Malfoy Manor, which was now being used as Order Headquarters. Actually, that was fairly important information that he really shouldn't tell her or anyone else. He shouldn't even talk about it at all even with people who knew.

Harry scribbled back a reply saying that he was well and safe, no he hadn't heard anything more than was in the Daily Prophet, and that he was desolate without her.

After breakfast, Harry and Sirius went to the weight room. Mr. Malfoy declined to accompany them, citing a need to make certain communications with various people in the Wizengamot and the Ministry. War effort stuff, he assured Harry, and very boring.

"So is it as bad as you thought?" Harry asked Sirius cheekily.

Sirius laughed. "No, it's worse. What an impossible man! But yes, all things considered, he's being very cooperative. He's been a perfect gentleman so far. I can't complain about his manners. I expected him to be haughty and insulted at having to accept charity from someone he doesn't like."

"He likes you."

"Harry, he detests me. He always has."

"Maybe he detested you fourteen years ago, but that's a long time. People change. They mature. They come to new ways of thinking. So why can't you believe that Mister Malfoy has?"

"I'm starting to," Sirius said. "It was a very gutsy thing he did, snatching you from Voldemort like he did. He says he fights to protect his family. The things he's saying about blood and kin come right out of the same pureblood attitude I grew up hearing. He hasn't changed a bit. He just seems pointed in a different direction now. It's unnerving is what it is."

"So you're saying that his reasons for fighting and his priorities aren't the same as yours, and therefore you don't trust him?"

"I think that might be it, in short. We're fighting for the greater good, and he's fighting for his own skin."

"I should think that would make him fight harder," Harry observed. "Rather than for an ideal. It's personal for me too."

Harry lifted weights with Sirius until lunch. Lunch was quiet, as they were both tired and Mr. Malfoy was not yet done with his communications. After he'd finished eating, Harry went to his room and closed the door. He put a quiet Locking Charm in place and laid down on the bed. Focusing on his animal form, Harry bent his will to the task and made the transformation. He curled up under the pillow with just his nose sticking out.

Putting a Locking Charm on his bedroom door was not something he'd ever had to do before, but they'd never had a houseguest who didn't know about the lessons before either. The only guest or visitor they ever had was Moony. Now that Mr. Malfoy was living here, it was going to be difficult to spend long periods of time in his animal form without going unnoticed.

Which was more important? Attaining full Mastery of his Animagus change or keeping that knowledge contained to as few people as possible? Harry didn't know. He trusted Mr. Malfoy completely, but he was aware that many other people did not. He loved Sirius and knew that Sirius loved him and wanted what was best for him. His opinion meant a lot to Harry. That disconnect was enough to give him pause. It might not be prudent to tell Mr. Malfoy about this talent because he simply didn't need to know.

Harry realized he should probably be talking to Sirius about this. He emerged from under the pillow and resumed his real body. He found Sirius in the library. He was deep in a book, but he looked up as Harry closed the door behind him.

"Harry," he said with delight.

"Hi, Sirius. I was thinking about something."

"What's that?"

"Mister Malfoy doesn't know I'm an Animagus. I've kept it between you, me, and Moony."

"You want to tell him?"

"It's going to be hard to keep it from him if I'm going to get it perfect. I still need to stay in my form for long periods of time."

"Right." Sirius thought for a moment. "I would rather not, but I suppose there's no fixing it. You've absolutely got to master the transformation as soon as possible."

"Really? I'm surprised to hear you say that."

"Figured I'd start ranting and raving about him?" Sirius asked with a smirk.

"Well, yes."

"I was thinking about what you said earlier about how time changes people. You're right. I missed a lot of years while I was in Azkaban."

Harry's stomach lurched. "Sirius, I didn't mean-"

"Oh, it's all right, Harry. There's no point in hiding from the truth. I missed a lot of years, and now I'm using outdated knowledge of who he is. I don't really know what he's turned into. I just have my assumptions based on what I knew then, and I've obviously been wrong about a few things. The Lucius I believed in would have stood there and let you die and then knelt to kiss his master's feet. He would have done everything in his power to serve Voldemort, but with everything he's said about family and blood -- and that's Lucius and most of pureblood society to the core -- I think I now see that he would have served not out of devotion but out of fear. The threat to his family would have driven him to be the best Death Eater, to keep them safe."

"Yeah," said Harry. "That's pretty much it."

"But what changed all of that was you, Harry. He saw you and knew that if you could destroy Voldemort once, you could do it again, and he saw his chance at escape. He saw you and saw hope, and he proved that by his open defiance. He must have, otherwise he would have let it happen. He took a serious gamble, and we still have yet to see if it'll pay off. This is a long play, and I respect him for having the stones to have a go at it. We're going to do it, but Lucius doesn't know that. He only has faith in us and himself. What it takes to command the faith of Lucius Malfoy, well, that must be a pretty awesome thing."

"We are going to do it."

"We are. So let's give our ally a little bit of encouragement. Help him feel better about the odds on the wager he's made."

"I never thought I'd hear you care about Mister Malfoy's feelings." Harry couldn't help but make a wisecrack. The headiness of the moment had gotten too much. Finally, these adults were starting to understand each other.

"You'd better not let on that I did. I'm having far too much fun with him to have it ruined by a little sentimentality."

"You're impossible," Harry said with a laugh.

"I know."

"I'll just be going then. Thanks. Really."

Harry found Mr. Malfoy in the dining room having a late lunch. Kreacher had prepared a heavenly-smelling French onion soup served with fresh baked rolls on the side.

"Mister Malfoy?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"I've got something I'd like to tell you."

"I'm listening."

"For the past year, I've been studying some illegal magic."

"Go on."

"It's not Dark or anything, but there are laws about it. I've been training to be an Animagus."

"Is Sirius teaching you?"

"You don't seem surprised."

"I'm not. In fact, I'd be surprised if he _wasn't_ trying to arm you with a very useful weapon. Likewise, I knew he either intended to teach or had taught you to Apparate. I began instructing Draco on the theory over the Easter holiday last year. If I knew the first thing about being an Animagus, I would have seen to that as well."

"Oh. Well." Harry didn't know what to say. He'd expected there to be surprise.

"Does he know you've told me?"

"Yes."

"He approves?"

"Yes. Grudgingly." Harry had to add that to protect Sirius' image.

"Of course. Well, thank you. I do appreciate the trust. It means a great deal."

"Yeah, that's what we figured."

* * *

At breakfast on Sunday morning, they received a letter from Professor Snape. Theo had woken up from his induced sleep. Madam Pomfrey had declared that he could receive visitors. Professor Snape suggested that Harry and Draco might want to visit.

"May I, Sirius? Please?"

"Certainly. We'll go when we've done eating, if that's all right?"

"Thank you."

Harry sent a quick owl off to Draco, telling him of the plan. He watched Regal wing away towards Wiltshire and was amazed to see Arlette coming within moments. It was far too soon for Regal to have arrived and Draco to have written a return letter.

Draco's message contained no indication that he had received Harry's letter. He reiterated what Professor Snape had said and suggested that Harry join him up at school to visit with Theo.

Sirius and Harry Apparated to just outside the gates of the castle grounds and quickly stepped inside. The dizzying sensation lasted less and less every time he used that mode of transportation. Rather like he'd gotten used to using the Floo, he was gradually becoming accustomed to Apparition. It certainly was convenient.

In the hospital wing, Theo still looked awful. Ugly yellow bruises had sprung up all over his face and arms, but at least his eyes were open.

"Hey, Theo," Harry said gently. "How do you feel, mate?"

Theo didn't answer. He gave a half-shrug.

"Madam taking good care of you?"

Theo nodded once.

"Good, good. Glad to hear it. We're all really worried about you, you know."

Theo said nothing.

"Did Madam say how much longer you've got to stay in bed?"

Theo shook his head slightly.

"I see. Well, get plenty of rest then. Nobody wants to spend summer holiday in the hospital wing."

Theo blinked twice and closed his eyes. Within a few minutes, his breathing evened out. He was asleep.

Draco entered the hospital wing. "I thought he was awake," he whispered.

"He was. Didn't say much though."

"I hope he's up and about soon. I want to talk Quidditch with him. Need to find out if he's going to be ready for trials."

"I doubt it."

"He's going to have to deal with it all sooner or later. Somehow. It might as well be through sport. At least he wouldn't be writing awful poetry and junk."

They sat there with him for several hours. Harry had brought his Potions text and spent his time reading for his homework assignment. Sirius opened a book entitled _Raising a Teenage Wizard in the Modern Era_. Draco also brought homework; he was braving Professor Sinistra's Astronomy assignment.

Professor Snape stopped by eventually. He exchanged greetings with everyone.

"Did he say anything to you?"

"No, not really."

"Anything?"

"Actually, not at all. He just sort of nodded his head a bit."

"It was the same for me. Ah well. He will speak when he wants to."

Theo did not wake up, and eventually it was time for lunch. In the Great Hall they sat at the Slytherin table and dined on the fare put together by the overeager house elves, who were delighted to have students to wait upon again. Even Sirius was deemed a student by the elves.

After lunch, Sirius said, "If you want to see Theo again, you should go now. It's time we were going."

Harry was reluctant to leave, but he knew Sirius was right. He could hardly stop everything to watch Theo sleep.

"May I come back tomorrow?"

"Yes, but it will have to be after the lesson."

The lesson! Harry had forgotten they were starting Apparition lessons tomorrow morning.

"First thing after breakfast. Draco, don't be late." Sirius leaned down and whispered something in his ear.

"Thank you, cousin. Will you be coming to get me?"

"Yes."

* * *

Monday morning after breakfast, Sirius left Grimmauld Place and returned with Draco. They all adjourned to the duelling room on the second floor. Sirius let Mr. Malfoy do the talking.

"Now then, the normal Ministry approved course of Apparition instruction runs for twelve weeks, meeting every Saturday. If we were to start now, you would finish in October. That is unacceptable. We have six weeks. I expect you both to master the technique. What I ask is difficult. The expectation is high, but you are Slytherins. You will train hard. You will rise to this challenge.

"The important things to remember when Apparating are the three D's! Destination, Determination, Deliberation!

"Step one: fix your mind firmly upon the desired destination. To Apparate someplace, you must know it. You must have been there yourself in person or have had it so well described to you that you can envision it. Photographs can help establish this mental picture, but Apparating to someplace you have never physically visited is still more risky than normal. You will be attempting to reach the circles I have drawn."

Well, that was easy enough. It wasn't hard to visualize a place when you could see it. In time they would move on to Apparating to places they couldn't see, but this was a good place to start.

"Step two: focus your determination to occupy the visualised space. Let your yearning to enter it flood from your mind to every particle of your body! There is nothing of more importance than for you to cease to be where you are and to be where you envision. It must be done!"

Motivation. Harry had that in droves. Before Hogwarts, he'd once Apparated himself on to the roof of the school to get away from Dudley and his gang. Explaining that one had been impossible.

"Step three: turn on the spot, feeling your way into nothingness, moving with deliberation. Slip effortlessly into the ether. Travel the pathways of magic. Step sideways through space and time."

_Yeah, just like that._ Harry tried not to snort at how utterly useless the directions were. He sighed. _Well, here goes._

Harry spun on the spot, lost his balance and promptly fell over. Draco laughed at him, but he fared no better. 

The second attempt was no better than the first. The third was just as bad. The fourth was rubbish.

"Can we add a fourth D?" Harry asked.

"What would that be?"

"Demonstration?"

Mr. Malfoy stepped forwards, turned gracefully on the spot with his arms outstretched and vanished in a swirl of robes, reappearing at the back of the Hall. "Remember the three D's," he said, "and try again. One — two — three." 

They made absolutely no progress during that first lesson. Harry and Draco both managed to fall down quite a bit, but they managed not to laugh too much about it. 

"Keep working," Mr. Malfoy said encouragingly. "You almost had it."

"Lucius, it's time to take a break."

"Soon, Cousin, soon."

"It's been an hour."

"Has it, now?"

"It has. They're tired. They need a short rest. They've been working hard."

"Yes, they have. Very well. Ten minutes, boys. Get a drink of water."

Kreacher brought goblets of ice water, which Harry and Draco gratefully slurped down. This was hot work. They were both sweating profusely.

"Another D," Harry said between gulps. "Dehydration."

"That's funny. This is brutal."

"No kidding." Harry had thought Animagus training was rough.

"All right, boys, on your feet."

"That was never ten minutes," Draco protested.

"It was."

"It wasn't."

"I'm not going to argue about this. I say it was ten minutes. Keep it up and the next ten minutes will be even shorter."

"Hey!"

"Now concentrate on your destination."

Apparition lessons continued until lunch. They got breaks when they were too tired to go on, but they never seemed to last long enough. 

Harry nearly fell asleep on his sandwich. Draco sat with his elbow in the salad for almost five minutes. They were exhausted, and they hadn't accomplished anything. They were going to do this every day? Until they could do it perfectly? Masters of Apparition before starting fifth year? It seemed ludicrous, but they would try. It wasn't as though they had a lot of other things going on.

Remus returned to the house for lunch. He hadn't made many sales that morning, and he was in a bit of a irritable mood.

"There's a great many clouds out today, so the weather is not very warm. I've seen few people out, and even fewer were interested in buying ice cream."

"Rum luck, Remus," Harry said.

"I'm not even going back out today. Hopefully there'll be better weather tomorrow. This can't keep up. I've got to make the rent."

"Hey, Remus?" Sirius said.

"Yes, Sirius?"

"Are you really happy at that flat of yours?"

"Moderately. Why do you ask?"

"I was thinking you might take a room here. With the war on, it's a lot safer. I'll admit you won't be able to bring girls back here, but some sacrifices must be made."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that."

"Remus, one should always worry about that."

"I suppose we could always go to her place."

"Could you, Remus?" Harry asked pointedly. "Whose place? Have you got some girl you haven't been telling us about?"

"As a matter of fact, I have seen a particular young lady on several occasions."

"Who is the unlucky girl?" Sirius teased.

"Oh no, we are not going through this again. After what you did to James when he realized how bad he had it for Lily but wouldn't say anything, I will _hex_ you if you even try to figure it out before I decide to say something."

Sirius just laughed. Harry was also curious who Remus' mystery girl could be, but he respected the man's privacy enough to wait for a proper introduction.

"But this moving in business is not a bad idea."

"It's a lot safer here than out there. I worry about you, old friend."

"Sentimentality, Sirius? In front of the Slytherin?"

"The Slytherin has a name," Mr. Malfoy said pointedly. Sirius and Remus ignored him.

"Bother that. More to the point, why _shouldn't_ you move in here?"

"No reason, now that you mention it. Then it's settled."

"Do you help moving anything?"

"I am very accomplished at it by now, Sirius. Thank you."

Remus went and emptied his flat that very day. He brought with him just the one small suitcase held together with a considerable amount of knotted string.

After lunch, Sirius took Harry and Draco up to Hogwarts to see Theo again. He was awake, which made Draco very happy.

"Hey, mate, good to see you looking so well." Theo looked horrible. "So I've been thinking, this year is the last year for Warrington, Pucey, and Montague. If we want to step up next year, we should go to all the team practices, do all the same stuff. Then we can get the benefit of Bletchley's experience, because Harry's going to be the captain in sixth year, and we all know he's going to be rubbish at it."

Draco shot Harry a quick glance to indicate he was only kidding.

A brief smile twitched at the corners of Theo's mouth. It faded within seconds.

"So if you're going to fly with me, you need to get well soon. Eat all your vegetables, and do exactly what Madam tells you."

Theo nodded once. He turned his eyes to Harry. The brown irises were like a cracked mirror, revealing the soul beneath. He said nothing, and Harry was helpless to look away until weariness gradually caused his eyelids to close. Harry shivered.

It wouldn't take long for Theo's physical hurts to be healed. Curing the wounds of the spirit would take far more time. He might not even want to play Quidditch anymore.

Harry and Draco stayed, watching Theo sleep for an hour or so. Sirius entered and sat down next to the bed.

"How is he?"

"No change. He's been asleep for a bit. He was awake earlier."

Theo did not wake again, but his sleep was troubled by nightmares. Though he thrashed and flailed, he did not cry out. Draco slipped out to get Madam Pomfrey.

The matronly nurse quieted Theo's fit with a wave of her wand.

"Theodore," she said with authority. "Wake up, Theodore."

Theo's eyes flew open. He stared directly at her. She handed him the flask she carried.

"Drink," she commanded.

Theo obediently swallowed the potion and handed back the flask.

"Now sleep."

Theo closed his eyes again, and now his rest was quiet.

"Dreamless Sleep," she murmured, patting the flask with satisfaction. "Works every time. You lot might as well depart. He won't be waking any time soon."

* * *

It was quite the arrangement: four men in a house with only a house elf to cook and clean for them. All of the silver tableware was put away in boxes, replaced with even more ostentatious gold. It wouldn't do to poison Remus.

"Trying to impress me, Sirius?" Mr. Malfoy asked at dinner that night.

"You? Hardly, but my good and dear friend Remus does have a certain allergy to silver, and as there was no other kind of flatware in the house, this is what we have. I don't want to impress anyone. If I did, I wouldn't have discarded the china with the family crest."

"You threw out the family china? You mustn't tell Narcissa."

"Oh, she hated it as much as we all did back when we were children."

"She loves family history."

"The fine china coming out meant dressing up. It meant we had to be on best behaviour. It meant no teasing."

"You set a fine table, Sirius. Your hospitality has been most cordial. I am contented. The only want I lack for is the presence of my lady wife, but then, with her at my side, no other wants have a hold on me."

Mrs. Malfoy was staying in the family home to maintain order as chaos descended upon it. The Order of the Phoenix had set up shop in the east wing of the mansion.

Sirius and Remus mimed throwing up behind Mr. Malfoy's back. Harry tried not to grin. It was incredibly juvenile, but it wasn't outright antagonistic. A scant year had passed since they'd been constantly at each other with vicious words. Now one side was making good-natured fun of the other. It was quite the improvement.

All in all, Harry thought it quite remarkable that the reconciliation was going so smoothly. Now they were working together to plan Harry's birthday, which was only two weeks away. Sirius and Remus dragged Mr. Malfoy out of bed every morning at earlier and earlier hours, finally waking him up twenty-three minutes after he went to bed, and he shouted most furiously at them. Then Sirius and Remus had collapsed into laughter before dodging Stinging Hexes inexpertly aimed by the irate Lucius.

That was another strange thing happening. Sirius and Remus called Mr. Malfoy by his given name so much, Harry occasionally found himself thinking of his best friend's father as "Lucius". It was always unsettling when it happened, which fortunately wasn't often.

There could be no mistaking him during Apparition lessons, however. There he was most definitely Professor Malfoy and in charge of their training. He was unrelenting in his drive to see that both Harry and Draco became master Apparators. After a week of training for several hours a day, neither boy had managed to move so much as an inch.

"You are not concentrating hard enough," Mr. Malfoy thundered. "I was Apparating to places I couldn't see by the time I'd had a week of study. This is unacceptable. Apparate into those circles! Do it!"

There was a horrible screech of pain. Draco had moved into his designated circle, but he'd left his legs behind. He sat staring at the bloody stumps in shock.

Sirius and Mr. Malfoy converged on him; there was a great bang and a puff of purple smoke, which cleared to reveal Draco sobbing, reunited with his legs but looking horrified. 

"Splinching, or the separation of random body parts, occurs when the mind is insufficiently determined. You must concentrate continually upon your destination, and move, without haste, but with deliberation." 

Draco's Splinching was the most interesting thing that had happened so far in their training -- that is, until it happened to Harry himself!

He was tired, frustrated, and eager to have the lesson over with. Harry looked at the circle, sighed, turned, and with a flash, his left hand was wrenched away by the forces of magic.

Harry stared down at the stump of his arm. There was no blood spurting from the hideous wound like he expected. Yellow bones stuck out, with the red meat of the muscles clinging. He tried to move.

The pain slammed into him with the unforgiving nature of an iron hammer. He screamed, ripping his throat raw with the agony. 

Then Sirius and Mr. Malfoy were there. With a tremendous bang and another puff of purple smoke, Harry's hand was restored to him. He clutched it to his chest and began to sob.

"That's enough for today," Sirius said. "We'll try again tomorrow."

"Agreed, Sirius," Mr. Malfoy said. "Perhaps their focus will be improved."

Grateful to be free, Harry and Draco hurried off to Harry's room.

"What an awful feeling," Harry said.

"No kidding," Draco agreed. "I could still sort of feel my legs, but I couldn't make them move at all."

"I was fine until I tried to move my hand," Harry remembered. "Then the pain hit me."

Draco shuddered. "I never want to go through that again."

"Me either, but look at Professor Moody. He's had to deal with losing limbs."

"That magic eye _is_ very tally," Draco admitted. "I wouldn't mind one of those. Imagine the sorts of things you could see."

"I'd rather not need it, thanks."

"Oh, of course! But if you had to. Believe me, Harry, I've considered the sorts of nasty things that might happen to me during this war."

"And you're still with me."

"Terrified for my skin, but yes. V- v-"

"Come on, Draco," Harry said encouragingly. His best mate still hadn't managed to say Voldemort's name, though he had managed to stop flinching when it was spoken.

"Voldemort," Draco said quickly and quietly. "He'll do nasty things to me regardless of if I serve him or oppose him. So I might as well stand up and fight."

"Glad to have you, mate," Harry replied. "I wouldn't want to have to fight you."

He changed the subject. "So who do you think the prefects are going to be?"

"Obviously I hope it's me," Draco said. "Prefects can award or deduct points and can assign detention. Think of how handy it would be to be able to take points off of the Weasel if he got too annoying."

"Five points from Gryffindor!" Harry said, trying out the sound of it. It sounded good. "Detention, Weasley! With Professor Snape!"

Professor Snape, his Head of House, would probably frown on using his power too liberally, although it would most likely be because he had to supervise.

"Ten points to Slytherin!" Draco sounded even better. 

Harry hoped he would have many opportunities to say all of those things. Assuming he was a prefect, of course. It all hinged on that. Harry tried to tell himself that he shouldn't get his hopes up. If he built himself a fantasy world based on the unproven assumption, it would be crushing when it all came crashing down around his ears. Best to just wait and see if a badge came with his Hogwarts letter and be pleasantly surprised.

Ah, who was he kidding? He wanted to be a prefect in the worst way. Prefects were the best of the best in Slytherin. It was recognition of skill and talent, diligent study, and exemplifying the traits Salazar Slytherin had valued.

Harry was at the top of several of his classes. He'd always done very well in Defence Against the Dark Arts and Potions, in third year he'd become the ace at Arithmancy, and in fourth year he'd developed an amazing facility with Transfiguration. He'd not only survived the Triwizard Tournament, but he'd won the thing with a combination of technically illegal magic and countless hours spent ducking, dodging, and duelling. He was Slytherin's star Seeker. He had unquestionably distinguished himself far beyond surviving the Killing Curse as a baby, done deeds on his own.

Was it so wrong of him to desire what anyone else in that position would desire? Cedric Diggory from Hufflepuff was a Seeker, team captain, a prefect, a Triwizard Champion, and was likely going to be Head Boy. It was a hefty list of accomplishments. Harry had actually won the Triwizard Tournament. Harry had led his Quidditch team to victory for three years. Neither was something Diggory could say. Harry was likely going to be named Quidditch Captain next year, but he wanted to be a prefect too. His dad had been a Quidditch star, but his mum had been a prefect.

_If Voldemort had never gone after my parents, I'd have grown up unimportant. Nobody would have entered me into the Triwizard Tournament, but I'm sure I'd still be learning my unofficial lessons. Dad and Sirius are both Animagi; they probably would have started me as soon as I could walk. I might have known how to Apparate before going to school._

He'd still be just as smart as he was now. Maybe his study habits would be a bit worse. Harry thought about Sirius for a moment. Yes, definitely worse study habits. Though maybe his mum would be stricter in that regard.

* * *

On Friday morning, the booklists for the upcoming school year arrived. The envelope was thicker and heavier than normal. Harry started as something fell out. It was a silver badge. He picked it up and ran his fingers over the engraved letters. Prefect. He was a prefect.

His mum had been a prefect. She'd be proud of him. So would his dad, but his mum would be delighted that he was following in her steps. Maybe he would also be Head Boy some day like his dad had been. His mum had been Head Girl.

 

Dear Mr. Potter,

I have selected you to be a prefect. You are a fine example of all that a Slytherin should be. You are studious and skillful. You are clever and creative. You are a natural leader, and others follow the strength of your personality. You are also a political choice. I believe it is best to give you actual authority to reinforce your unofficial influence. Nevertheless, being a prefect is an important responsibility, and I will continue to expect only the best of you. Know that you have my utmost confidence.

Most sincerely,

Professor Severus Snape

Head of Slytherin House  
  
---  
  
 

Harry looked up at Sirius.

"I'm a prefect."

"Congratulations, Harry!" Sirius looked like he might burst. "Oh, I'm proud of you!"

"Well done, Harry," Remus said. "Your parents would be pleased."

Harry beamed.

"Congratulations, Harry," Mr. Malfoy said. "You are an excellent choice."

If Mr. Malfoy was disappointed that Draco hadn't been chosen, he didn't let it show. Elan had been a prefect, and Draco was expected to trod the same path. Draco wanted to succeed in other ways, like on the Quidditch pitch, but being prefect would have been nice.

"Remember that you are responsible for enforcing the rules now. It does not do to break them. You will quickly erode your own authority."

"We must have a special dinner tonight," Sirius declared. "Talk to Kreacher after breakfast, Harry, and tell him what you want to eat."

"I will." He grinned somewhat foolishly. "I'm so happy."

"Did you get your booklist?"

The booklist had only a few things listed. Not many of his classes were changing texts. There was the usual revision to The Standard Book of Spells. They were currently on Grade 5. There were also two books related to Defence Against the Dark Arts.

 

Countering the Curse by Geoffrey Odnol

Dark Creatures and How To Kill Them by Izzy Scamander

 

"Yes. When can we go to Diagon Alley?"

"I think we can arrange for tomorrow."

"Can I tell Padma? I'd really like to see her."

"If she can be trusted not to blab?"

"Padma knows how to stay quiet. Thanks, Sirius."

"A young man deserves a snog once in awhile," Sirius declared. "Even if there is a war on and grave threats to his safety."

"We have to go out anyway."

"Yes," Sirius said, not sounding happy about it. "Which is the only reason I'm agreeing to this. You're not going to be alone. Get that idea right out of your head. Your date will be in public, and myself and Remus will be there to keep an eye on things."

"Chaperones?" Harry was dismayed. How was he supposed to smooch his girlfriend with all eyes on him?

"It's as good a word as any."

Harry grumbled about it all day, but he wrote a letter to Padma inviting her and Parvati on a double date with him and Draco at Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. Her return owl, received just before lunch, contained an acceptance.

* * *

The trip to Diagon Alley was conducted with some form of secrecy. Sirius turned Harry's black hair blonde. They could do nothing about the scar, of course, but Harry looked so radically different that it hardly mattered. Considering his altered appearance in the mirror, Harry thought he looked quite Swedish.

Harry didn't need to visit Gringott's. Sirius had a bulging moneypouch that he opened to pay for everything. Harry still found it a bit odd to let his guardian take care of him, but it was sort of nice to not think about money.

They visited Flourish and Blott's for their books. Harry thumbed through the Defence books and was pleased to see that they contained lots of incantations. Whomever was teaching Defence this year had good taste in literature.

A quick trip to the Apothecary was needed to replenish Potions ingredients. Harry picked up a few phials of salamander blood as well. He didn't know what he might have chance to use them for, but it seemed like a good idea to be prepared, and the price was too good to pass up.

In Madam Malkin's, Harry got fitted for new robes. His robes from last year were now too small for him. Harry had finally gotten used to the idea that he was entitled to have clothes that fit him decently. For years he'd had to contend with fat Dudley's cast-offs, but no more. Now he dressed finely in robes that were well-made, but seldom ostentatious.

Their shopping for school completed, it was time for the double date with the twins. The boys were the first to arrive at Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. They ordered cool drinks to fight the heat of the day and waited. At a few minutes past the hour, the girls walked in. Harry and Draco stood up as Padma and Parvati approached their table. Both girls accepted a brief peck on the lips before allowing the boys to pull out their chairs.

"So how have you been, 'Vati?" Draco said.

"I've been rather irritated," the Gryffindor said, getting right to the point. "Something weird happened before school let out. Suddenly you don't have time for me and nobody on the train even knew where you were. I haven't seen my boyfriend for nearly three weeks. He barely responds to his post, and when he does condescend to see me, it has to be in the middle of the day, in public, with chaperones? Oh yes, I see Professor Lupin trying to be inconspicuous in the far corner. So why don't you tell _me_ how you've been and what's going on?"

"There's nothing going on," Draco replied. "Nothing, that is, unless you count the evillest Dark wizard in a century finally coming back. He tried to kill my best mate, Parvati. You don't think I've been rightfully distracted by the idea that he might kill me too?"

"You-Know-Who would never kill Slytherins," Parvati scoffed. "Don't you all secretly follow him or something?"

Harry's temper flared. Draco, however, spoke first. "Never. Whether what he says about blood and Muggles echoes what we think or not, the Dark Lord is a madman. We do not approve of his tactics, for many reasons. Don't you ever again suggest that we are all good little miniature Death Eaters."

The vehemence in Draco's voice surprised even Harry. It was a nice bit of spin, to say that Voldemort's opinions on blood and Muggles happened to agree with Slytherin, rather than all Slytherins agreed with the Dark Lord. It was like saying that all squares were rectangles, but not all rectangles were squares.

"Draco's right," Harry said. "Obviously not all Slytherins are Death Eaters. Like me, for example. I'm a Slytherin, but you wouldn't catch _me_ worshiping Voldemort." The girls winced as he said the verboten name. "I'm not scared of his name either. He killed my parents and tried to kill me. Twice. I've sworn to avenge them."

"I'm going to help him," Draco said flatly.

"How are you going to do that?" Parvati asked.

"Well, I don't rightly know yet."

"See, that's what I don't believe. You are a Slytherin. Slytherins always have a plan. You've decided to do this great thing. How did you plan to do it?"

"You don't develop a plan to defeat a Dark Lord in a fortnight, Parvati," Draco objected. "These things take time."

"So what've you got so far?"

"Study hard and earn a dozen OWLs."

"Are you serious?"

"Absolutely. We're not even qualified wizards yet. Who would trust us to do anything? We've got to finish school, take the NEWTs, and then probably join the Aurors or something."

"You, Draco Malfoy, join the Aurors?" Padma interjected, sounding extremely skeptical.

"I admit, it's not the most common idea, but it does have a certain merit to it."

"There's something going on," Parvati declared. "You're not likely to wait six years before doing anything."

"There's nothing going on," Draco denied.

"Draco, I'm not stupid. Tell me what's going on!"

"There's nothing going on! Harry, is there anything going on?"

"No, there's nothing going on." Harry couldn’t understand why they were being so insistent. First Padma had pressed him in her letters, and now both sisters were grilling the boys for information.

"See, Parvati? There's nothing going on."

"Stop that, Malfoy!"

"What, being right?" Draco scoffed. "Forget it."

"No, forget _you_ , Malfoy!" Parvati practically spat. "You were an interesting enough diversion, but I'm through with you."

Draco laughed sharply. "Through with _me_? Get a fresh grasp on reality, Patil. I only asked you out because I wanted to irritate Parkinson. Merlin knows that worked fantastically. It was a lot of fun conspiring with you in that regard. I think you enjoyed that aspect of it more than me. I, on the other hand, much preferred the snogging."

"You _slime_ , Malfoy!" Parvati and Padma hissed together.

Harry shot Padma a dirty look, but she didn’t notice. At the moment, she was a mirror of Parvati, disgust and loathing plain on her face. He barely recognized the gentle girl with whom he’d had so much fun.

Draco laughed again. "Oh, you're pretty enough, Parvati, but I decided to ask you out because I wanted to rub it in Weasley's face that I could get what he couldn't."

Parvati abruptly seemed unsure of herself. "Harry said you were smitten with me."

"Harry?" Draco suddenly sounded confused.

"The only reason I went out with you is because I owed Harry a favour. He called it in to make sure I said yes when you asked me to the Yule Ball."

"Did he now?" Draco drawled, not glancing at Harry at all. "Well, thanks, old chum. I do appreciate that."

"Think nothing of it, my good man," Harry said, also affecting somewhat of a pompous drawl. Draco was his oldest friend, and there was little Harry wouldn’t do for him.

Padma kicked his ankle under the table, and he glared at her. She glared right back, and Harry felt his anger kindle. Anyone hitting him conjured memories of his abuse at the hands of the Muggles.

"Oooh!" Parvati fumed. "You're not supposed to thank him!"

"Hoping I'd be angry? I'm quite honoured that Harry called in a favour on my behalf. He could have waited another few years until your hips finish filling out and then asked you to perform the Dance of the Seven Veils for him. I would have, if you'd owed me."

"I pray I never have to owe you a favour."

Draco laughed again. "Never fear, Parvati. I won't seek that. Much."

"Your crudity makes me sick," Padma declared. "I thought you were supposed to be civilized."

"I've had enough of breathing the same air as you, Malfoy," Parvati declared, standing up. "Good bye. Come on, Padma."

Padma also stood up. She glanced at Harry. "I can't go out with you anymore, Harry. Your best mate is too much of an evil git."

Harry's temper flared. "Then go! Thanks for the snogging. I was just about finished with you anyway."

Hurt flashed in Padma's eyes, and she turned away. The sisters hurried out of the shoppe. The boys sat in empty silence for a moment.

"Good riddance," Draco pronounced. "Pain in the arse, right?"

"Yeah."

Girls were downright dizzying. Harry still felt himself hovering above the table, disconnected from the scene. What had happened to their nice ice cream date? He'd been looking forward to finally having another date with his girlfriend, and now he was broken up. What had he missed?

"We don't need to put up with that. Did they ever think that we couldn't tell them even if we knew what was going on?"

"We could have explained that."

"Could have, but then we'd have to explain why we would even know there was something going on. Lots of awkward questions all around."

"True."

Harry felt strangely liberated. He'd been wondering how he was going to keep everything from Padma. The more Harry thought about it, the more he realized just how pushy Padma had been in trying to get him to tell her what was going on. She knew he was involved somehow, but that was all she knew. She wanted to know more. Now he didn't have to worry about it.

Remus and Sirius came over.

"I take it things didn't go well," Remus said casually.

"Not according to plan, anyway," Draco said. "Let's get out of here."


	4. Letters

Harry returned to Grimmauld Place feeling very unsatisfied with how the day had turned out. All the fun of going around Diagon Alley with Sirius, Remus, and Draco had been wiped away by the disaster of his double date with the Patil twins.

He still couldn't believe what had happened. Now that the concept was settling a bit, Harry felt bewildered and a little sad. He and Padma had been a couple for over half a year. They'd studied together, and his marks were better from associating with the Ravenclaw. She'd stuck by him through the hell of the Triwizard Tournament. Most of it, anyway. She, like most of the rest of the school had thought him culpable of hoodwinking the Goblet of Fire. That had been before the dragons.

He had asked her to the Yule Ball, and they'd danced the magical night away, ending with an utterly dizzying snog. She was the first girl he'd ever been serious about, the first one to leave marks on his neck. He'd never expected them to last forever, but he'd been taken completely unawares by the sudden break-up.

Padma had left him. Despite the words he'd shouted in anger, she'd left him. Whatever her reason, she'd dumped him. She wanted nothing to do with him.

He was uncomfortably reminded of the Dursleys. They'd never wanted him. They'd thought him some sort of devil and had treated his presence in their midst accordingly. He'd felt insignificant then, and he felt equally meaningless now.

Harry barely said two words to Draco as he went to his room and lay down on the bed. He didn't want to lift weights or work on his essays for school. He tucked his knees up to his chin and stared at the wall without seeing it.

There was a knock on the door.

"Harry?" Sirius called. "May I come in?"

"Sure," Harry said.

"Did you want to talk about it?"

"Not really."

"Would you be willing to anyway? It could help."

"What's there to say?"

"Why not tell me what happened?"

"I don't even know. Things started all wrong. Parvati jumped down Draco's throat first thing about not seeing him all summer. She knows there's something going on. Parvati kept after him and they finally lost their tempers. Then Padma jumped in and starting calling Draco names. I had to stand up for my best mate, didn't I?"

"Of course."

"Padma's been pestering me pretty bad all month, and I sort of dodged her questions. I'm sure I said too much though. Of course she would tell her sister."

"As she should."

"Yeah, I guess. I just wish Parvati hadn't been so pushy. She just _had_ to know. It's not like we could really tell them anything. We don't _know_ anything. Why wouldn't they believe us?"

"I don't know, Harry. Sometimes things just don't work out. Personalities clash. If it hadn't been this, maybe it would have been another thing. Don't eat yourself up inside because of it. Couples fight. Couples break up. It's the way of things. You don't always find the right one on the first time out. Trust me, I should know."

"I really liked Padma."

"She seems like a girl worth liking, and it doesn't make you bad people because you don't make a good couple."

"I can't believe we dated for seven months. Now it's over, just like that."

"Everything changes, Harry. Nothing stays the same."

"I know. Thanks, Sirius."

Harry gave his godfather a hug. Talking with Sirius had helped him deal with the stress of the Triwizard Tournament too. Not for the first time, Harry thanked Merlin for all the blessings in his life.

That weekend, Harry exchanged a flurry of letters with lots of different people. Poor Regal was constantly going here and there with envelopes clutched in his talons, pinched in his beak, and tied to his leg. The bird accepted the tying, hesitated a moment before accepting the second letter with his talons, and gave Harry a really bad look before snatching the third envelope out of Harry's hand and winging off into the sky. Harry didn't push his luck after that, sending just two at a time, and making sure to have lots of bacon available.

Harry's letter-writing began with a missive from Daphne received the morning after his impromptu break-up with Padma. It was penned in her usual unique handwriting, whimsy having led her to choose blue ink. He opened the envelope and unfolded the parchment, which was also decorated with small designs.

 

Dear Harry,

Would you care to take wagers on who is having the most boring holiday? I haven't done anything fun. Mum refuses to let me leave the house with the stupid war back on. I've had to suntan in my room by setting up mirrors in windows. My tan is coming along great, if you were wondering. You might not ask, but I know you're thinking it. If you weren't, you are now!

It's going to be this bad all summer. I just know it. She's off her broom. Keeps on ranting about not going through this again. She doesn't talk much about the war days. I can't wait to get back to school where things are sane.

So enough about me and my problems. How about you and your problems? Tell me all about it so I can tell you to stop being a prat and get over it already. I eagerly await news from the outside world.

All my best,

Daphne  
  
---  
  
 

The evil-looking cartoon goblin that Daphne had drawn cackled and pointed at Harry, making him grin at her cleverness. She was pretty handy with her charms, and she wasn't half bad at drawing either. The lines were strong, and the shading was rather good.

Harry wondered at Mrs. Greengrass's foul moods. What had she gone through in the last war that she didn't want to endure again? Had she been in school, compelled by the collective of the house to support those with Dark ambitions? Had her family been threatened to make her comply? Those were Voldemort's tactics, and she would surely be worried about a repeat performance.

 

Dear Daphne,

So you may as well know. I broke up with Padma. We had a double date with Draco and Parvati in Diagon Alley yesterday after we got done school shopping. They seemed convinced that there was something going on, that we knew more about the war effort than we really did. They didn't believe us when we said no. Parvati called Draco all kinds of names, and they said some pretty awful things to each other. Then she said she'd had enough of him, and he said he'd had enough of her. Then she said she never wanted to go out with him in the first place, and he said he'd only been fooling around with her. It was rather ugly, now that I think about it, but then Padma got into it, saying things about Draco. Well, I had to stick up for my best mate, didn't I? So, I told her to go ahead and follow her sister right out the door. I don't want a girl who thinks my best mate is a slimy bottom-feeder. It's not helpful.

My problems are much the same as yours. I am confined to the house. Glad you figured out a way to tan. The House of Black has a very nice skylight that I have considered laying under. Haven't been that worried about a tan to follow through.

I keep thinking about the war and how tough things are going to be now. I hope you can persuade your folks to stay neutral. It doesn't sound like they're eager to fight at all. Neutral is better than nothing, but you're with me at least. I couldn't ask for a whole lot more.

Cheers,

Harry

P.S.: I'm a prefect!

* * *

| 

**POTTER BREAKS HEARTS**

by Rita Skeeter

Single witches from age 14-24 can start working on their new look -- Harry Potter is available again.

The Champion from Slytherin persevered in the Triwizard Tournament with the comfort and support of his girlfriend, Padma Patil of Ravenclaw. She was radiant in turquoise at the Yule Ball. She was at his side as he prepared for the rescue mission under the lake and the twisted tangles of the maze.

What foul influence turned such sweet, promising love into poison?

Just yesterday, the pair met for a double date with Padma's twin sister Parvati and Harry's best mate Draco Malfoy. It should have been ice cream and sunshine, but the peace was shattered when the girls got pushy.

"We've been in hiding since the end of school," Draco said by owl. "With the war on again, security is a big deal. Those girls have been trying to get us to tell them where we are all summer. Then when we finally do get a chance to see them, they don't stop asking. I'd like to know why they were so insistent."

Mayank Patil is a dealer in fine perfumes, and he does much importing and exporting. Is he selling more than scents? Could the Dark Lord have put Patil under his thumb? What other reason could there be for demanding to know the details of Harry Potter's security?

Amelia Bones, Director of Magical Law Enforcement, had no comment when asked about a potential investigation of Patil. As we know, the Auror's office only comments when there is nothing going on. Readers, draw your own conclusions.

Harry plays Seeker on the Slytherin Quidditch team, and sport and weight-lifting have earned him a body to be proud of. He has the most dreamy green eyes a girl could ever want to get lost in. Harry's not just a pretty face, though. He is also a prefect. They'll be knocking down his door by the dozen.  
  
---  
  
* * *

Dear Harry,

YOU BROKE UP WITH PADMA FOR MALFOY?!?! You IDIOT! What a FOOL you are! It took a lot of guts, I'll give you that, but you're a MORON! Malfoy was not worth it.

So anyway. Who are you planning on asking out next? I'm not that serious about Terry, but a bit more serious than I should be to say yes if you ask me out. So I hope you'll spare me the anguish I would surely endure and look elsewhere. You may be the most eligible boy around, but Terry knows how to flatter me properly.

Millie STILL has the world's worst crush on Krum, even though they've been out together since the Yule Ball. I'd save your breath. Daphne, now, is a distinct possibility. She's the one who told me about you and Padma, by the bye. I think she'll try to catch your eye, and you certainly could do worse.

Maybe you could date one of the younger Slytherin girls. Laine is very well-connected. She's smart, clever, and ruthless. You couldn't ask for much more in a girlfriend. Or you could go for gusto and ask out Weasley. That would drive Weasel out of his mind. That makes it worth doing right there. It would almost be like dating outside the house, because from everything I've seen, she still acts like a bloody Gryffindor.

Or you could really look outside the house. Perhaps not in Ravenclaw or Gryffindor, though, given what you just did to Padma. That leaves Hufflepuff. Susan Bones is well-connected in the Ministry. Her aunt is Director of Magical Law Enforcement. She's going to be a legacy case if she goes into the Auror Corps. Good for her, I say. If I were any good at Charms or Defence, I still wouldn't want to be an Auror, but someone has to do it.

Or you could consider Hannah Abbott. She's got a good pedigree as well, even if her mother is Muggleborn. By all accounts, her mum is quite the artist. That hair of Hannah's is fantastic, and I'd kill Theo to have it.

So think about it and let me know. I'll fill you in on whomever you pick. Likes, dislikes, that sort of thing. Can't have you go out unprepared. Talk to you soon!

Conspiratorially,

Pansy

P.S.: I was named a prefect. I'm so happy!  
  
 

Harry grinned. Pansy would kill Theo for just about any reason. It was awfully cute. Harry had hoped that they might finally realize how bad they each had it for each other when Theo asked her to the Yule Ball last Christmas. That whole night had blown up for Theo, Pansy, Terry, and Tracy. Terry and Pansy had started seeing each other soon after that, and now things between Theo and Pansy were worse than ever. At least it was entertaining when they bickered.

More bothersome was the question she raised, one Harry had already thought about. Did he want to start dating a new girl right away? He still couldn't believe he had been dating Padma Patil, nevermind that he'd broken up with her. What sort of person broke up with the prettiest girl in school? Surely everyone would think him mad.

Pansy was offering him all the "juicy stuff" on whichever girl he decided to ask out. She knew reams of information about every one and every thing at Hogwarts and in the larger wizarding world. Harry wasn't entirely certain how he'd become so close with Pansy. She'd always been around but caught up in her world of gossip and girly things. During the last year, Pansy had been one of his nearest and dearest friends. She'd kept the vicious rumours that had been flying around the school from going completely out of control. Harry didn't know how he would have managed without her.

It was what he imagined having a sister might be like. He didn't think much of her romantically. Somehow she'd never given him that vibration. Well, there was the one time when she'd lured him to a secluded corridor, but it had only been to talk about Draco. She and Harry conspired together on all manner of things. It looked as though their next cunning Slytherin plot would be to find Harry a new girlfriend.

Pansy thought Daphne might be a distinct possibility. She _was_ a lot of fun. Harry opened Daphne's letter up again and re-read her first paragraph. Daphne, flippant as she was, was nonetheless correct. The image rose in his mind of Daphne tanning herself. Her blonde hair was bleached brighter from the sun, and she wore shades to protect her eyes. She was wearing a very small green and silver bikini held together with thin strings.

Harry shook his head. _Wow_ , he thought. _Is my imagination out of control or what_? Daphne would probably laugh at him if she knew what he was thinking. _But maybe once she got done making fun of me_... He shook his head again. He'd have to figure out a way to learn her real feelings before he attempted a move on Daphne.

He tried to tell himself that he had no romantic feelings towards his most irreverant friend, but now that the possibility was seriously being considered, the memory of their kiss at Christmas during third year suddenly sprang up in his consciousness. Now that he'd broken up with Padma, maybe Daphne would be interested in going out.

He pulled out a piece of parchment and reached for his quill.

 

Dear Pansy,

Your offer of info is gratefully accepted. I don't know who yet. Maybe I'll stay a bacholer and drive all the girls bonkers a bit. That could be fun too.

Draco is my best mate, and the way Parvati and then Padma started talking about him was absolutely uncalled for. You would have stuck up for him too, and you know it. Everyone knows how much you hate Parvati.

So you're serious about Terry, are you? That's so sweet! I think I might gag. Wait until I tell Daphne!

Mischeivously, 

Harry

P.S.: I'm a prefect too! We're going to have a lot of fun this year! I've been practicing my prefect voice.

* * *

Dear Harry,

You broke up with Padma because Parvati broke up with Draco? Is that correct? In any case, that's hysterical. I'm not sure who you should ask out next. Pansy's pretty in to Terry, but I bet if you were really smooth, you could get her to go out with you. You can forget about Millie. Of course we all know Tracy is a non-option. If you don't have anyone in mind, you could sit back and see who approaches you with romantic ideas.

A prefect? Fantastic! Now we can get away with all sorts of trouble! We must talk further about this once I've done some plotting.

Cheers,

Daphne

* * *

Dear Harry,

If you had known what a firestorm this would ignite, would you still have told the world that the Dark Lord is back? Everyone is buzzing about it, and everyone is worried. Nobody knows what's going to happen. The Ministry is drawing up a lot of advisories and response apparatus and plans to strike back. Something a lot of people are saying is that the Dark Lord has made a mistake by taking such a public place as his headquarters. It's a good secure place, yes, but we know where he is. We can hit him hard and make it count.

I hope so anyway. My parents have decided that our best chances for the war are to back the Ministry. They're taking a hard line early, and my father likes that. With the right sort of attitude now, rather than trying to pretend it's not that bad or that it's no big deal -- or worse, that it's not happening at all! -- is what it's going to take to properly fight this thing.

As for me, you know I'll stick with you. I would never want to wear those ugly robes or stupid masks. I'll fight until my last breath to avoid _that_. As long as I get to choose my own clothes, you're my star.

So I hope you're doing well. Please give your godfather my greetings. Above all, stay safe. You're too cute to die ignobly. Or nobly. Or at all. So you'd better not! 

Sincerely yours,

Laine  
  
---  
  
 

Harry didn't want to contemplate what might have happened had the Ministry not decided to recognize Voldemort's return. How much stronger would his power base be with more time to prepare behind the scenes? How much better would his posture be? How many good wizards could he corrupt, intimidate, or Imperius? He might even be able to topple the Ministry from the inside.

The prospect of such a bleak future was depressing, but what gave Harry hope was what Laine said about her father. Mr. Slater was a very important man, and if he had decided to support the Ministry effort, then others would too. Whether it was because they decided to follow his lead or because the very influential man decided to peddle some of his influence, Harry didn't rightly care. Every wand raised against Voldemort was one not raised against him. The more people he could persuade to sit out of the fight, if they wouldn't take up arms, the better.

 

Dear Laine,

You always choose very nice clothes, so I support you in your determination to not become a Death Eater. I'm glad to have your support, both magically and as a friend. You've really come through for me in a big way in the past year, and I appreciate it. I won't forget it.

Sirius sends his greetings in return. We're both well. I'm going a little stir-crazy with the war on, but it's to keep us safe. I don't like it, but the adults are doing it for a good reason. We're not fully trained wizards yet, and Death Eaters are very, very nasty bits of work. Sirius has told me a lot of stories from the last war. The idea of an attack in public against children is awful, and when they put it into perspective like that, it really makes you consider. I know as Slytherins we're widely thought to be half-evil at birth and fully baptised upon the Hat shouting "Slytherin!", but Slytherin families, the old blood, are really only safe as long as they follow Voldemort. My father's family is old blood, but Voldemort still came after them because they wouldn't play his game. Granted they're a line of Gryffindors, but still.

So I'm glad your dad has decided to support the war effort. I'm sure his words will be taken seriously. Please tell him I said thank you.

I've got to go now. Sirius, Remus, and I are lifting weights today. We do that a lot. Not much else to do when you can't fly or get outdoors.

Sincerely,

Harry

P.S.: I'm a prefect!  
  
---  
  
 

Harry was about to tie the letter on to Regal's leg when he was interrupted by the arrival of another owl. It had been a long time since he'd seen the Davis family owl, and during last summer, Tracy had been trying to get him to go on dates with her. Whereas he had once viewed Neil's arrival with dread, now it seemed a positive thing. He quickly opened the envelope and gave the bird a strip of bacon.

 

Dear Harry,

I heard you broke up with Padma. Good for you! Sticking up for your best mate is always the right thing to do. She doesn't get the right to talk about our Draco that way, even if he is a right ditherhead at times.

My folks are very nervous about this war thing. I think they hope to just stay out of the way. Neither of them is what you might call gifted. They'll probably _make_ a gift -- anonymously -- of Galleons to the Ministry to fund the effort. Aurors like to be paid, you know.

Jamie is thinking about signing up for the Healer training now that it's free. Mother and Father didn't approve -- they probably still don't -- and they wouldn't pay for her enrollment. Now they don't have to. Father probably will let her go. He'll tell her to go ahead and waste her life. Honestly, he's never forgiven her for being a girl. If only I'd been a boy, maybe he'd like her a little more. Unless he and mother- eeeew!

Okay, I am not ending this letter like that. Have you started your homework yet? What did you think of Snape's assignment? Can you believe he wants two scrolls about Rolappine spores? I know he's our Head of House, but that's a bit much! I'll be forever at it. Then there's McGonagall's thing I've been afraid to even open. Maybe you can give me some help with it. You've become the best in our year at Transfiguration.

Write me back soon!

Sincerely,

Tracy

P.S.: Do you know who the prefects are?  
  
---  
  
 

Harry put down Tracy's letter, thoughtfully digesting everything she'd said and, perhaps more importantly, what she had not said. She'd heard about him breaking up with Padma, but she didn't make any hints at all about getting back together. Oh, she'd mentioned getting his help with Transfiguration, but Harry had looked at McGonagall's assignment, and Tracy was right to be afraid. Aside from that completely reasonable request, there was nothing even suspicious in her missive. Was she finally starting to accept that he only thought of her as a friend?

 

Dear Tracy,

I cannot believe you rambled into discussing the possibility of a new sibling. Are you trying to gross me out on purpose?

Tell Jamie I think she'd make a great Healer. We're going to need good ones for the dark times that are coming. I'm glad your parents will make a donation. Everyone helps in different ways. We can't all be Aurors.

I'm a prefect! I got my badge on Wednesday! I'm so excited I think I might burst. My mum was a prefect too. Sirius says my folks would be proud of me. I hope so.

Gotta cut this short. Sirius and I are lifting weights today. Sorry!

Sincerely,

Harry

P.S.: I cannot help you on the theoretical portion of Transfiguration. I just can _do_ it really well. I think we're both going to have to seek Merlin's blessing to get through old McG next year.  
  
---  
  
 

Harry gave the letters to Regal and headed to the weight room. Sirius was already there and looking through the music crystals.

"What shall we listen to today?"

"Wand Smasher?"

"Again?"

"Unless you've got a better suggestion," Harry said. "I've had a letter from Laine. She says hello to you."

"Which one is Laine?" Sirius asked, sounding confused.

"The long auburn hair. Slytherin. Year below me. The twin."

"Ah! Okay. Sorry, but it's hard to keep track of all your girlfriends."

Sirius sounded very serious with his apology, and Harry blushed to the roots of his hair.

"Sirius!"

"Well it is, isn't it? I can't even keep all the names straight. Laine, Daphne, Susan, Hannah, Padma, Pansy-"

"I'm not seeing Pansy!"

"But you are all the rest? I understand."

"Sirius!"

"Ah hah! How about this?"

"Rabid Hippogryff? Yeah, all right."

Sirius put the crystal into the wizard's wireless. Music began to play. They took time to stretch, always important before lifting. After they'd limbered up, they started with some low-density weights. When Harry's muscles had warmed up, he tapped his wand to the barbell and turned up the density to his personal maximum setting. His repetitions were coming easier, and he could manage more of them. He reached twenty and set the bar down with a grunt.

"You're getting stronger. That's good."

"I think it might be time to turn up the weight a bit more. I bet I can lift more than this."

"Give it a try."

Harry tapped the weights again. This was the most he'd ever tried to lift. He set his feet shoulder-width apart. He crouched down and grasped the bar. He inhaled deeply and exhaled sharply. Though he strained with the effort of picking it up, he was able to stand up. Stars swam in his vision, but he held the barbell at his chest.

"Well done, Harry!"

Harry had no breath to respond.

He inhaled again and pushed the bar up above his head. Though his arms trembled, the bar didn't drift. He'd done it! Now to bring it down safely. Back to the chest, down to the ground. His breath was ragged in his lungs. He'd done it!

When he'd recovered from his exertion, Harry turned down the density slightly. He would attempt to manage repetitions at a lower weight to build his stamina. Today, though, he could only manage four.

"I'm taking a rest."

"Sure, Harry. Have some water."

"Kreacher!"

Kreacher appeared with a bang. he bowed low, nose to the floor.

"Master Harry is calling. Kreacher answers like the good elf he is. How may Kreacher serve the noble and sweaty Master?"

"Some water, please. A large pitcher and some ice, too."

"Kreacher is bringing the water."

Though old, the Black family house elf was devoted and attentive. He lived to serve, and with all the activity in the past two summers, he'd been in his glory. He, like his Mistress, was thoroughly hateful of all things not pure, but that's who had come to the house. Master Sirius was back in his childhood home, Harry was his godson and had a good pedigree on the Potter side, all of Harry's friends were from pureblood Slytherin families, and now Lucius Malfoy, patriarch of a very old family indeed, was residing under the very roof. His language muzzled through Master's command, only Remus' presence cast a blight on Kreacher's existence.

The water was crisp, cold, and thirst-quenching. Harry held the glass up to his forehead. The cool kiss against his hot brow was heavenly. He sat on the floor against the wall and caught his breath.

"Sirius, tell me a story, please."

There was nothing like hearing the old stories about his parents. His godfather was full of adventures that the Marauders had been through at Hogwarts, in the Forbidden forest, and even on the streets of London. Other times the story was darker, about the war. Those were instructive rather than entertaining, and Harry always paid close attention.

"Sure, Harry. Pour me some of that water, if you'd be so kind."

Harry handed him the glass, and Sirius drank deeply.

"Marvellous. A story, a story. Well, your father and I went on a raid this one time. We'd done a fair number of raids by that point, so breaking into a well-guarded house to spy on a Death Eater meeting didn't seem like any big deal. Dumbledore gave us the location. We got on my motorbike, because the place was heavily shielded against intrusion. Anti-Apparition Fields, Redirection Charms, and nasty countermeasures to boot. No, going in by the street was the only choice. Good thing the house was in the city, that's all I'll say. Otherwise we would have been forced to walk the whole way."

"Though you could have run in your Animagus forms."

"We could have done that, yes, but the motorbike is so much quicker. So we go. I managed to trip the perimeter spells, but before anyone could arrive to investigate, I bounced us actually up on to the roof and hit the invisibility booster. We left it there while we snuck inside. Turns out we were in a bad neighborhood, because all the windows had bars on them, and those bars were inscribed with runes. There was no way we were getting in that way. We couldn't go down to the ground level because the lowly Death Eaters sent to look for the intruder were still in the middle of their search."

"So what did you do?"

"I wanted to go straight down through the roof, but your dad said there was no way of knowing what we'd find beneath us. He suggested we find some holiday spirit and go down the chimney."

"Like Father Christmas?"

"Exactly so. Well it was brilliant. No spells whatsoever on the chimney. We were able to get down inside the house. Of course we were covered in soot, but these things can't be helped. We got under the invisibility cloak and went to find the meeting of the important Death Eaters."

"Wow. What happened then?"

"We found them in the dining room. They went over the plans for their next attack. We got out, got back up the chimney, hopped on the motorbike, and flew off."

"You got away just like that?"

"The properties of protective enchantments are particularly interesting. One must take care to prohibit passage in opposite directions. The average shield is unidirectional. It will keep people out but not in. We got away just like that."

* * *

Dear Harry,

Well, you've gone and done it this time, haven't you? Voldemort's back and there's going to be trouble. It's all over the Prophet, isn't it? So far I haven't seen your name mentioned hardly at all, which surprises me greatly.

Being back home at the Burrow is hard. Ron's upset because he was supposed to go to Romania to live with Charlie for the summer, but Mum won't hear of it now that the war is back on. He's being a right beast, always asking me when the Slytherins are planning to sign up for the Junior Death Eater club. I'm so very tired of him. Threatening to hex him doesn't work anymore. Says he's had it as rough as it gets from you and your lot. Would you like to assist me in twisting his brain a bit?

The twins keep reading all the articles about the Ministry preparations and looking through the help wanted section. I think they're harboring thoughts of not going back to school for their N.E.W.T.s. Mum would kill them of course, but they keep talking about Uncle Fabian and Uncle Gideon who fought in the last war. That's why Mum would kill them. Uncle Fabian and Uncle Gideon didn't come home one night. Bad times have come again, and Mum wants no part of it.

Charlie is visiting. We got to see him when he brought the dragon up for the First Task, but he was working and couldn't drop home. Then he came home at Christmas and surprised us all. Now he's here again at the start of summer holiday. Something is going on, even if he is playing it cool. Mum is so happy to have him here, she hasn't pressed him for his reasons. Now if only Bill and Percy came home, the whole family would be together.

I hope all is well with you. Talk to you soon!

Ginny  
  
---  
  
 

Ron Weasley was a constant thorn in Harry's side. He could never seem to resist tossing off a vile insult whenever he saw the Slytherins. No matter how many times they hexed him in return, he always seemed to find it in him to keep being mouthy. His tired mantra of "slimy Slytherins" was aggravating in the extreme. It seemed to be his personal mission to antagonize Harry and whomever he happened to be with. It made no sense to Harry that Ron hated him just for being a Slytherin. Harry hated Ron because Ron was an arse; it was personal.

But Ginny was all right in Harry's view. Driven from her house by roommates who didn't understand what she'd gone through her first year, her brother Percy had asked Harry to look after her when he finished school. At Harry's asking, the Slytherin girls had taken her in. Ginny had repaid his kindness with friendship. She'd stuck up for him during the damned Triwizard Tournament, and she hadn't hesitated at all to sign up in the fight against Voldemort. Regardless of where she slept, she had the heart of a lion.

Percy was the other Weasley Harry counted amongst his friends. Once a Gryffindor prefect, he'd stopped his siblings from practically killing Draco during second year. For the subsequent ban of the twins from the Interhouse Quidditch Cup and the loss of more points since anybody could remember, Percy had been dubbed a traitor to his house. Gryffindor's Quidditch Captain, Oliver Wood, had been in Percy's year and took things rather personally.

Things had finally come to a head when Harry had discovered Percy bound and gagged, dangling upside down by his feet from the Astronomy Tower. The Slytherin sixth years had acted at that point. Percy had saved Draco, Draco was younger brother to Elan, and Elan was the leader of their little group. Given a home in Slytherin, Percy had turned out quite well. He was Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation and he was barely nineteen.

Harry didn't really know the twins aside from that rather stand-out incident. They were two years ahead of him, and the forms generally didn't mix. The Slytherin soon-to-be fourth and fifth years were an exception. Charlie he'd met just once before, at the Quidditch World Cup. They'd had a bit of a pissing match about who was the better Seeker. Harry didn't really hold it against Charlie that he was an egotistical prat. That was Seeker's prerogative. Bill he'd also met at the Quidditch World Cup, and he'd largely remained quiet.

Mrs. Weasley had raised quite a brood. Harry had met her before, too, and she was a very nice lady. The first thing she'd ever done was to show him how to get on to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. Then in his second year, she'd sent him pot roast when it had come out about how Harry had been treated at the Dursleys. They'd starved him, so she'd sent him food. The last time they'd met, Ginny had introduced them on the platform. He'd introduced them to Sirius.

Actually the only Weasley he'd not met was the patriarch, Arthur Weasley. He was a Ministry employee, manning the desk in the Centaur Office, a job which paid little. He moonlighted as a driver for the Knight Bus. Harry had not introduced himself on the occasion in third year when he'd taken the bus away from Privet Drive, but the man had been kindly enough. He apparently had a great interest in all things Muggle, one of the reasons he'd been side-lined into unimportant jobs. Though perhaps with the war back on, the Ministry would need all the people it could get. It might prove a blessing in disguise for Mr. Weasley, and he could achieve some distinction in whatever wartime task he was given.

 

Dear Ginny, 

All is well. Spending a lot of time cooped up, as most of us are, I imagine. Sorry I ruined your summer. I think I'll be saying that a lot come September, but what was I going to do? Not say anything? Not likely. Frankly, I'm just as glad that I don't have to get out there and make speeches to try and convince everyone he's back. We realize it. Now we just need to kill the tosser.

Sorry about Ron being a beast. Maybe if you feed him a treat and scratch his belly, he'll roll over and make nice. What sort of twisting did you have in mind? I've got a few Jinxes that might do nicely at twisting his insides.

If your brothers want to join the fight, then they should. As long as they know what they're getting themselves into, they should. They know the stories about your Uncle Fabian and Uncle Gideon? Then it's their informed choice, and Merlin watch over them if they see combat. I think it'd be smarter to finish school and take the N.E.W.T.s, myself, but depending on how they were to go about it, it might not be necessary.

I wish I could get into the fight, but I'm still not trained up enough. I need more knowledge. Compared to Voldemort, I'm just a little kid. I might as well be twelve. Once I get through the O.W.L.s this year, I'll be able to say I've got some sort of small accomplishment. Right now, though, I'm just the Boy Who Lived. I want more than that. I want to be the One Who Defeated Voldemort, and for people to be able to say his name without fear.

On the subject of needing more knowledge, I need to do my reading for Potions. Bye!

Harry

P.S.: I'm a prefect!  
  
---  
  
* * *

Harry sent the invitations to his birthday party to only a few people. Five boys, six girls, a mixture of fifth and fourth years. Draco, Pansy, Daphne, and Millie were automatic choices. Crabbe and Goyle were a considered decision. Tracy was as well, except in a different way. Laine also deserved an automatic invitation, considering how strong she'd been with him during last year. Ginny was a safe choice as well. If he was inviting Laine, he might as well invite Lucas, and Arcen could come with Millie.

The security had been devised with Marauder trickery. The group would meet briefly at the Three Broomsticks before making the remainder of the trip by secret transportation. They were all going to to be Side-Along Apparated one by one by Sirius, Remus, and Mr. Malfoy into the Shrieking Shack where they had been hard at work to get the place in order.

They were definitely going out of their way to make sure that Harry could have a fun birthday, and Harry appreciated it more than he could ever express with words. Sirius was doing his best to make up for ten years without parties or presents. A whole decade lost and all the fun birthdays of a young child missed. Every party from here on out would be stellar, Sirius had promised.

Harry had no idea what sort of entertainment was planned, and he wouldn't dream of trying to pry it out of Sirius either. The grown-ups were all going to such lengths, it wouldn't properly be fair if he spoiled the surprise.

* * *

Dear Harry,

I think the perfect time for us to set you up with someone will be your birthday party. Several of the potentials will be there, and parties are always good for this sort of thing. That is if you've invited the girl you're interested in. If you haven't done that, you're a few orders of magnitude away from a good Lumos Charm, if you know what I mean. So is it Laine, Daphne, Ginny or me? I should like to break things off with Terry before I entangle myself with you.

I have indeed been practicing my prefect voice! The respect, the esteem, oh, it's absolutely wonderful. I can't wait to give my first detention! I hope Patil isn't one so she can't cancel it.

All the best,

Pansy  
  
---  
  
 

Harry read the last two lines of that first paragraph several more times. Surely she wasn't suggesting something. Surely. He wrote back a quick note that he hadn't made up his mind yet on whom he wanted to ask out and sent Regal on his way.

Within minutes, another owl delivered a letter from Tracy. He hoped she didn't react too badly when he asked out whomever he eventually would. It would be nice to be able to think of her as a sister, like he thought of Pansy.

 

Dear Harry,

Congratulations on being a prefect! I'm not one. I'd hoped. I tried to get the best marks, but there's more to it than that, apparently. Do you know who the other new prefect is?

Have you looked at these new books? The new Defence professor isn't fooling around. This is practically combat training. The Standard Book is pretty interesting too. I'm nearly done with my first read through.

Thanks for the invitation to your birthday party. I'll be there.

All the best,

Tracy

* * *

Dear Harry,

Theo's finally been allowed to leave the hospital wing. Can you imagine two weeks under Madam's thumb without even the normal school stuff to distract her? He's been a brick about the whole thing, I swear. Still hasn't said a word yet. Not to me, not to Professor Snape, and not to Madam. It's the most peculiar thing. He understands us perfectly fine, and he'll nod or shake his head, but he's got nothing to say to us. I've been sitting with him for a few hours every day, and it's really starting to get creepy.

So I never did have the chance to tell you, but I've found this amazing room up on the seventh floor. You've got to do a bit of pacing, but it's so very tally. What's inside depends on what you're thinking when you go in. I've only begun to imagine the possibilities. Imagine bringing a girl up here, for instance. No cramped broom closet or uncomfortable desk in an empty classroom for us! Not anymore! I made the room conjure up this great big four-poster with green and silver sheets! There's a wizard's wireless, plenty of music, lots of soft pillows. I can't wait for classes to start.

Write back soon.

Your best mate,

Draco  
  
---  
  
 

Draco's discovery sounded like a lot of fun. What wonderful mysteries there were at Hogwarts!

Harry made sure to give everyone the update on Theo's condition. He was very relieved to hear the good news. He went to find Sirius and found him with Mr. Malfoy in the drawing room.

"Theo's been allowed to leave the hospital wing."

"Good show," Sirius said. "Poor lad."

"I'm impressed at his recovery," Mr. Malfoy said. "I've seen others stronger than he become much less than he after enduring the Cruciatus Curse."

"Counting yourself amongst them?"

"I have tasted it many times under the Dark Lord. Failure was not tolerated."

"Tell me," Harry suddenly requested. "Tell me one of your stories from the war."

Mr. Malfoy drew a deep breath. "I do not like to speak of those days."

"I need to know. What things did he have you do?"

The former Death Eater was silent for a long moment. His eyes grew distant, and Harry wondered if he was going to answer. He finally spoke in a voice that was hollow and dispassionate.

"It was a house where Muggleborns were taking refuge with some sympathetic purebloods. We were to breach the perimeter and capture everyone in the house. Those wizards and witches of pure blood would be given the choice of executing one of the Muggleborns and earning the Dark Lord's pardon. Those who repented would torture those who did not."

"Disgusting," Sirius interjected.

"We Apparated to near the house and from there up to the roof. It should have been a nice, easy insertion followed by a quick spat of fighting on the inside. Should have been. Someone made a mistake. That house was guarded by some very old magic. I had never seen a gargoyle sentry before. I thought it was a simple bit of animation. Never underestimate the stone daemons. He grabbed Milles by the head and just squeezed. His head burst like a melon. It made the same noise too. The thing killed Ghant and Hallion before anyone got a spell off. It took three blasts of the Killing Curse before it crumbled to dust."

"Wow!"

"Absolutely terrifying, that was. Of course the spellwork alerted the other guards. We were overwhelmed. Half of our attack force was dead. The Death Eater in Charge was dead. I ordered the retreat. Only ten of us made it out alive."

"How'd Voldemort take the bad news?"

"Not well. I blacked out several times during my punishment, and he woke me up in order to keep cursing me. I later learned that it had been nearly half a day."

"Yikes," Harry said with a wince.

"So you say. I made my first priority to never go through that again. My second, rather. The first, naturally, being that my family never endures it even once."

* * *

Harry,

Happy early birthday. You figure out a way to stay in top form, or I'll make you wish you were never born.

Cheers,

Miles  
  
---  
  
 

Fly outdoors, Harry could not, but indoors? Harry had once observed that the cavernous open space that occupied the centre of the house was not quite suitable to play Quidditch in. Harry had since learned that certain patterns actually took advantage of interior space, patterns that let the rider train for torturous twists and turns that sent blood rushing from his head and his vision down a long tunnel. Struggling, straining, Harry fought his way back to consciousness each time a little quicker.

He wound up unconscious more than a few times as well. Cushioning Charms on the floor and the bannisters helped keep him from harm, but waking up in a pile on the floor next to his broom was more than a little embarassing even without anyone there to see him but Sirius, Remus, and Mr. Malfoy.

Remus found him that particular day. Harry came back to the world with a start. Remus was standing over him, tucking his wand away.

"Having fun, Harry?"

"Practicing," Harry corrected. "Some of these Quidditch routines are ruddy obscene."

"Let's have a cup of tea, shall we?"

Kreacher served tea in the sitting room. Harry picked up his cup and inhaled the aroma of the tea. No cream, no sugar.

"What have you been up to, Remus?"

"Aside from work, you mean?"

"Not that I wouldn't love to hear about how you managed to keep order while dispensing frozen delights to dozens of screaming children, but yes. How's the cute girl you haven't brought around yet?"

Remus smiled. "Perhaps soon. She hasn't even told her parents yet."

"Why don't you tell me about her?"

"Well, she has this great sense of humour. She has a really pretty laugh. She's passionate, loyal, and just wonderful."

"What's she do?"

"Not telling."

"Aww," Harry said, disappointed. "How'd you meet her?"

"Not telling that either. No more questions."

"Okay, I'll stop asking about the girl. I'm really happy you found someone you like."

"Thank you, Harry."

"Is there anything going on with the Order? Anything at all?"

"No, not particularly. I know at some point I will have a very particular mission, but the time is not quite right."

"What's the mission?"

"Werewolves have always been shunned by wizarding society. Many of them aren't magical, you know. Quite a goodly number are Muggles, but they're subject to Ministry jurisdiction, and some of them have quite a problem with that. Voldemort tapped into that resentment in the last war, and a lot of my fellows joined him. Well I went under cover in the werewolf community trying to collect information on bases and hideouts and such. I took up with this really loony woman named Gail who was convinced that Voldemort was going to reward her loyal service by turning her into a witch and giving her a wand."

"Is that even possible?"

"Not so far as we know, but consider first that he was lying to her, and second that she was crazy enough to believe him. She was the ringleader of the gathering cell. I got close to her, got in good with the organization, and then we arranged for her to be picked up by the Muggle authorities. The Order took care of it from there, but I presented myself as the replacement, and suddenly I was responsible for recruiting. Needless to say, I ended up being quite bad at it."

"Naturally."

"Almost abyssmal, really. Why, one might have thought I had no interest in getting anyone to sign on at all."

"How inconceivable."

"I sent all of the key people off on 'secret missions' that would take long periods of time. I intercepted and destroyed communications of orders and plans, faking return post promising compliance."

"Sounds like you did a lot."

"As much as I could. Eventually someone finally got wise to what I was doing. I barely got away with my skin. If it hadn't been for the full moon, I probably wouldn't have. I killed seven Death Eaters during my escape."

"Is that your lucky number?"


	5. It's Hard Being Fifteen

Harry woke up on the morning of 31 July and immediately began to smile. He was fifteen today. He bounced out of bed and headed for the shower. He took pleasure in his routine, taking his time and giving due diligence to every bit. He broke the steamy air with a sung lyric from Wand Smasher.

"I'm alive and free by the power of the maaaagic! I gather elemental energy on my finger tiiiips! Calling forces unseen, commanding man and machine, I will fly to victory!"

When he was clean and groomed, he returned to his room and got dressed. He ran his fingers through his hair a few times and gave it up in despair. He would fix it before he left the house. He saw his books on the desk, and he smiled again, glad to ignore them for one day at least. Fifteen meant he was going into his fifth year at school, with the O.W.L. examinations awaiting him at the end. He had been trying very hard not to think too much about those. He'd chipped away slowly at the stack of homework, but it was very intimidating. He despaired of ever satisfying McGonagall's assignment. He'd poked through several books in the Black family library to help write several of his essays. There would be no homework for him today. Today was a day to celebrate and be with people he cared about. He shoved all thoughts of his assignments out of his mind. Harry left his bedroom and headed downstairs with a spring in his step. He couldn't wait for the party to get started.

Sirius, Remus, and Mr. Malfoy were already waiting for him when he got to the dining room.

"Happy birthday, Harry!"

"Thanks, Sirius."

"Take a seat. Kreacher's been hard at work since the crack of dawn. I hope you're hungry."

"Starving."

Harry was fifteen. He was always starving. He sat down in his chair.

Without warning, there was a tremendous explosion! Red and gold smoke filled the air around him! Harry flinched away, reaching for his wand. As the smoke curled up to the ceiling, silver and green confetti began raining down. A prank?

"Happy birthday!"

Kreacher appeared with a bang and set a golden plate in front of Harry. A stack of seven enormous pancakes was decorated with fifteen candles made of butter.

Harry waited until they were finished singing the birthday song to let the butter melt. He picked up the bottle of syrup and doused the magical flames. He picked up his fork and began to eat.

"This is delicious," he said between mouthfuls. Kreacher's buttermilk pancakes were fluffy and heavenly. They practically melted into his tongue.

Kreacher brought back another golden platter of pancakes for Sirius, Remus, and Mr. Malfoy.

During breakfast, many owls arrived from people Harry hadn't invited to his birthday party. He was quite gratified that the Head of the Department of Intermagical Cooperation himself had deigned to send a card. Then again, Percy Weasley was a stickler for formality.

Harry opened one card and was treated to the chorus from Christinia Drade's song _Portrait_.

"Age another year, add another layer, to the painting that becomes, the portrait of your life..."

 

Dear Harry,

Happy birthday! I wish I could be there this year, but with all the new security, I'm not surprised I didn't get an invitation. I hope you manage to have some fun. See you in the fall!

Hannah  
  
---  
  
 

"Clever bit of magic," Sirius observed. "Can it be shut off?"

"I think if I close the card."

It worked. The song ceased abruptly once the card was shut. Harry stuffed it back in the envelope so it wouldn't accidentally go off again.

"Which of your girlfriends was that from, Harry?" Remus asked.

"Hannah Abbott."

"Which one is Hannah again?" Sirius asked.

"Blonde. Hufflepuff. Legs."

"Right, right. She's the swimmer, yes? Too bad you didn't invite her to the pool party."

"Too many people. Gotta draw the line somewhere."

"I know, Harry, I know. I'm sorry about this."

"It's better than nothing," Harry said, keeping positive. "I've had nothing before. Trust me, this is better."

"Muggles," Mr. Malfoy muttered.

"Not today, Lucius," Sirius said warningly.

"That goes for you too, Sirius," Mr. Malfoy replied.

"It goes for both of you," Remus said firmly. "This is Harry's day, and you're not going to ruin it for him by bickering pointlessly."

"Of course, Remus," Sirius said. "Everything's fine."

Another owl arrived at that moment, and it turned out to be a card from Susan Bones.

 

Dear Harry,

I hope you get lots of galactic gifts. Happy birthday from me and Aunt Amelia!

Susan  
  
---  
  
 

"Who this time?" Sirius asked.

"Susan Bones."

"Her, I remember. Blonde as well, yes?"

"Yes."

"Braided. Hufflepuff. Director Bones' niece."

"The same."

"Got a thing for Hufflepuffs, eh, Harry?" Sirius said with a wink.

"I find Hufflepuffs to be very nice people."

"That they are."

After breakfast, Harry went back up to his room and checked his appearance in the mirror. His hair was still messy, but there was seldom anything he could do about it. It had settled down a bit once he'd begun his Animagus training, but today the comb was less than useless. Every time he tried to flatten his hair, it popped right back up again.

Frustrated, Harry threw the comb across the room. _I wonder if Dad ever had this problem?_

Looking as neat as it were possible under the circumstances, Harry headed back downstairs to the sitting room. Sirius, Remus, and Mr. Malfoy were waiting for him.

"Ready to go?" Sirius asked.

"I am. Shall we?"

"We shall."

Harry took Sirius' arm, and with a _pop!_ they Disapparated.

They arrived in the alley behind the Three Broomsticks. Empty wooden crates and large barrels were scattered haphazardly. A collection of green glass bottles accumulated by a red-painted door with a sign reading "Staff Only".

Remus and Mr. Malfoy appeared a second later. Both men had their wands out, just in case of trouble. It never hurt to be too careful. _Constant vigilance!_ They poked their heads out around the corner. Nothing untoward was discovered in the streets of Hogsmeade, and the four men quickly made for the front door.

Mrs. Malfoy was already waiting for them. So were most of the guests. The invitations had said to meet in the Three Broomsticks at noon. Apparently everyone had decided to be fashionably early.

The first person he saw was Daphne, and her customary crooked smile was firmly in place. She had worn a light, airy, silver robe over a white shirt. Her smooth legs poked out from a skirt that stopped well above her knees.

"If anyone could figure out how to have a party in the middle of a lockdown, I might have known it would be you, Harry," she said with a smirk. "Where is this mysterious place? Not here, certainly."

"Nope. Top secret. We'll be using a secret method to get there, too. Once everybody's here, I'll explain."

"Well how many people did you invite?"

"Only a few. Actually, I think everyone is here. I missed Millie there behind Crabbe."

"Well that's understandable. You could miss half the planet behind Crabbe."

"Daphne!" Harry said with a laugh. "Be nice."

"I am being nice!"

Harry stepped closer to the rest of the gang.

"Thanks for coming, everyone. To maintain security while we're all gathered together, we're going to be going to an undisclosed location. One by one, you'll all step into the back room there, and we'll go. I'll be on the other side to meet you."

"How mysterious," Ginny observed slyly, "and how very Slytherin of you to play it up."

Harry bowed slightly, earning him a laugh from Pansy, Daphne, and Laine.

"Up Slytherin!" Draco cheered.

"Up Slytherin!" echoed Arcen and Lucas.

Harry followed Sirius into the back room and closed the door behind him.

"Ready?"

"Ready."

With a _pop!_ they Disapparated.

Harry had all he could to not fall down when they reached the inside of the Shrieking Shack. He steadied himself by grabbing Sirius' arm. Though he was gradually becoming accustomed to that mode of travel, two Apparitions in such close proximity had left him dizzy. Thankfully they were going to be here for awhile.

"I'll be right back."

Sure enough, he was, in no time at all. He brought Pansy with him.

Pansy looked completely non-plused after being Side-Along Apparated. She had gone without a robe today, wearing a fancy summer dress of pale blue. She'd chosen dangly gold earrings, rather than the Slytherin silver she usually favoured.

"How do you manage to always look like you just got done doing your hair?" he asked.

"Because I know secrets to hair styling that have nothing to do with magic."

"I guess so." Pansy's black hair was quite long, nearly to her waist. She hadn't cut it once since first year. It was always shiny and immaculate, yet she was never seen brushing at it between classes like many girls.

Harry spoke without considering his words. "You look great."

Pansy blushed. "Thank you. I hope you're not actually planning to ask me out."

"I might," he bantered. "What would you say if I did?"

"Honestly, I don't know." Pansy gave Harry a once-over, as though seriously considering him for the first time.

She could offer no further insight, as Draco was the next arrival. He was smartly dressed in a grey robe, buttoned up the front.

"Hi, Draco."

"Hi, Harry." Draco looked around. "Where are we?"

"The Shrieking Shack."

"Brilliant. This ought to be smashing good fun. Father's told me about some of the preparations."

"Draco, will you shut up about your father?" Pansy asked with exasperation. "Honestly. We're so tired of it. Can't you do anything on your own?"

"Actually, Pansy, I can, but I'm certainly not going to tell you about it."

"A likely story."

"Hey!" Harry protested. "Will you stop? Both of you? I don't want my birthday ruined by some pointless bickering."

"Of course, Harry," Pansy said immediately. "I'm so very sorry." She turned to Draco. "Hear that, Draco? Harry wants you to stop being a prat."

"Hey!"

Daphne's arrival precluded any further argument.

"Well, that's it for me," Sirius said. He was breathing heavy. "I think I can manage to get out, but I should rest before coming back."

"Don't Splinch yourself."

"Never."

These four Slytherins had been amazingly tight during the last school year. No matter where Harry went in the castle, Pansy, Daphne, and Draco had been with him. He had needed their support when everyone had been convinced that Harry had used some cunning trick to get himself into the Triwizard Tournament. Later, when the deadly nature of the Tasks had been revealed, the animosity had died down a bit, but they'd still stuck with him -- true friends he could not have been more grateful for.

Remus was the next to start bringing in Harry's guests. His first passenger was Tracy. Despite himself, Harry couldn't help but notice how pretty Tracy looked. Her blonde hair was wavy, and she'd pulled it back out of her face. She'd done her makeup subtly, emphasizing her brilliant blue eyes.

"Hey, Tracy. Glad you could make it."

"Wouldn't miss it, Harry. Thanks for inviting me."

There had been problems with Tracy last year. She and Harry had dated briefly during third year, but Harry had decided he just wanted to be friends. He'd spent all of fourth year trying to discourage her, and she'd been incredibly thick about the whole thing. Now it all seemed to have passed, and Harry was glad to have his friend back.

Millie's arrival was punctuated by a few clumsy steps and a fall. She toppled a chair, swearing as good as any boy. The tomboy normally discounted fancy clothing, and today was no different. She wore a plain black robe, no makeup, and had her limp brown hair pulled back in a loose ponytail.

"All right, Millie?" Harry inquired.

"Bloody knee," she hissed, nursing that body part. "Wow, that hurts."

"Gotta be careful."

It had been a considered decision to invite Crabbe and Goyle. Their allegiences were still in question, and only by the secret nature of this very clandestine party were they allowed to be in such close proximity to Harry. They'd sworn not to try to kill him at the end of fourth year, their wands proving the truth of the oath, but the Imperius Curse could warp the mind of any wizard who succumbed to its insidious power. The behemoths had been absolute rubbish at resisting the curse, and that worried Harry greatly. He wanted his friends to fight by his side, and hopefully today's festivities would help them realize that it was far better than kissing the feet of Voldemort.

Remus was breathing heavy. "I think that's all for me. I'm going to pop back and tell the others."

Remus managed to bring himself back to the Shrieking Shack, though he immediately collapsed into a chair.

"Remus? Are you all right?"

"I will be, Harry. I'm just very tired."

The next ferryman was Mr. Malfoy, who arrived with Laine in tow. She was a year behind Harry in school, but she was as close as any of his other friends. She had a crush on him, but she still managed to behave with decorum. During the tournament, she'd helped him put together a plan for dealing with obnoxious inquiries and had acted as his public relations agent. Her sunny smile always buoyed his spirits.

"Hi, Laine."

"This looks to be quite a good time. I'm glad we were finally able to get out of the house."

"I know what you mean."

"It's crazy, isn't it?" Daphne asked. "I couldn't even go to Diagon Alley to get my books. Mum insisted that we send the order in by owl. She took all my measurements and sent the numbers to Madam Malkin. I do _not_ want to think about how poorly my robes are going to fit this year."

"She's really paranoid, isn't she?" Harry said.

Daphne snorted rudely. "Paranoid doesn't even begin to cover it. I wouldn't be surprised if she tries to get the family out of the country. So far, Dad's been able to keep her from hysterics, but it's only a matter of time."

"Why's she so scared?"

"I really don't know. She flat-out refuses to talk about it to me or with Dad. He's trying to play it cool, but he's starting to get annoyed."

Ginny was the next to be delivered. Her red hair, which she usually wore in a tumbled fashion, had been neatly styled. Her warm brown eyes were a bit unfocused after the Side-Along, but she recovered quickly. She wore a simple green and white dress with a flowered print that modestly covered her knees.

"Ginny, thanks for coming."

"Wouldn't miss it, Harry. This is great fun," Ginny said, "and my parents don't even know I'm here."

"What?" Pansy exclaimed. "Where do they think you are?"

"Ginny's parents think she's at my house," Laine answered.

"How did you get permission to visit?" Pansy demanded.

"My father works at the Ministry. So does Mister Slater."

"Oh that's infuriating."

"Dad's trying to make a move with the new Ministry attitude being the way it is. If he can find a way to be useful, he can get out of the Centaur Office. So he lets me visit with Laine."

"I think she's just got a crush on my brother," Laine said slyly. "She thinks Lucas is _cute_."

Ginny laughed. "I didn't say that."

"No, you only wanted to know if he thought _you_ were cute."

"Laine!"

The aforementioned Lucas was their next arrival. Though he'd been indistinguishable from his sister when they'd first been Sorted, he'd managed to become his own person. He'd finally convinced his parents to let him cut his hair, and now he kept it very short indeed. Despite it being summer, he wore a long-sleeved black robe.

"Aren't you hot in that thing?" Harry asked curiously.

"Not really. It's Indian silk."

"Very nice," Draco commented. "Father does quite a bit of business in India. Silk is on the expensive side."

"It certainly is. This was a gift from my grandfather when he died."

"I didn't get anything nearly so nice," Laine said without any bitterness, "but when grandmother passed on, she left me all her jewelry."

"So it evens out," Lucas said.

Arcen was the last guest. Millie's little brother didn't have anywhere near the disregard for appearances that she did. He was neatly groomed, with his brown hair combed flat on his head.

"Hey, all. Are we having fun yet?"

"Very soon," Harry promised. "We just need to get the rest of the adults here."

"I'll be right back," Mr. Malfoy said. With a _pop!_ , he Disapparated.

To Harry's surprise, it was Mrs. Malfoy who brought Sirius. Mr. Malfoy appeared a moment later.

"See, Lucius, I am perfectly capable."

"You are a stubborn woman."

"Yes, I am, and you are a stubborn man."

Just then, the trap door in the middle of the room opened up and out crawled Theo Nott. He looked around at everyone, shrugged out of his cloak, and wandered out of the room in an apparent search for the cloakroom.

"Welcome to the party!" Sirius said loudly. "We have lots of food, we'll have the cake in a couple of hours, and the pool is right down that hall. Changing rooms are set up and everything."

"Wicked," Lucas said to Arcen.

"I know where I'm going," Pansy declared. "Daphne?"

"Absolutely." The two girls headed for the changing room. All the other kids were hot on their heels.

Harry was already wearing his swim trunks under his robes, so he shucked his clothes quickly and went directly to poolside. The adults hadn't transformed the room into a pool area; they'd simply cleared the room and flooded it. The water stopped abruptly at the doorway, about neck height.

"That's pretty tricky," Draco said admiringly. "Smashing idea."

There was perhaps no better way to get in than by running at the wall of water and diving head-first. Harry looked at Draco.

"Let's do it."

The water was delightfully warm. It felt as though the pool had been sitting under the summer sun for a week. Harry's exposure to swimming pools was somewhat limited. There was a pool at Malfoy Manor, but Harry and Draco were most often more interested in playing Quidditch. He'd gone swimming last summer with Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott at Hannah's house, but just the once.

"Not being able to go outside is an arduous hardship," Draco said. "I've been going down to the pool every day. It's quite a lot of fun, actually. I lift weights, I have a soak in the hot tub, and then do some laps."

It showed. Draco had always been thin, but his frame was buffing up nicely with all the weight-lifting he'd done over the past year and a half. There wasn't an ounce of fat on him.

"Lucky. I've had to just hit the bath when Sirius and I get done lifting."

"You been lifting every day?"

"Yeah. Does it show?"

"A bit, yeah."

"Good."

Theo emerged from the changing room, followed by Goyle and Crabbe. He was skinny and pale. He had scorned to join the others at the weight-lifting, what he termed a Muggle activity. He seemed even smaller, then, by comparison to Crabbe and Goyle. Those boys had always been big, but now they were muscular. Neither of them had what could properly be termed a neck. They had immediately jumped at the invitation to lift weights with Harry and Draco. Now their efforts had paid off. As big as they were, they were the only potential Beaters Harry could think of for the upcoming Quidditch season.

"Hey, Theo," Harry said. "Thanks for coming."

Theo didn't reply. He looked at Harry for several long seconds, his eyes empty. He turned away and waded into the water.

"Quiet, much?" Draco said.

"I'm surprised he's here at all," Harry replied. "After what he's been through? I can't even imagine."

"Me either. I don't know what to say to him. I don't know how to help him."

"Me either. Sirius said just to be there for him. So I invited him."

"He came. It's a start."

"What's a start?" Pansy asked from behind them.

Harry turned around and felt his eyes go wide. The girls had all changed into their swimsuits, and it seemed all he could see was naked flesh.

Standing in front of the group was Pansy, the most daring in a brilliant blue bikini. She had figured out some way to tan as well. Daphne had probably shared her invention with her best friend. Pansy looked fantastic, and from her poise, she knew it. She had braided her black hair up to keep it out of the water.

Daphne's blonde hair had been further bleached with all her sun exposure and was now very pale. Her tan was very dark, and the contrast with her skimpy pink one-piece was striking. For all the skin she was showing, it might as well have been a bikini. Harry had to tear his eyes away from her.

Millie wore a boring black tank suit. She generally didn't care for what she was wearing, and this was no different. She had taken her brown hair out of the simple ponytail, and it hung limply to her shoulders.

Tracy did care how she looked, and Harry had to admit she looked good. Her choice of a white one-piece worked. The front was decorated with a twisted black line that drew the eyes in. She'd done some fancy magic on her blonde hair, because now it was up and piled on her head like a beehive. It might have looked silly on a lot of girls, but not on Tracy. Woven with magic, it was much more grand than any Muggle could achieve.

Standing next to Pansy was Laine. She may have been a year behind the other girls, but she still looked very appealing in a purple swimsuit with sequins and designs on the front. It was a bold bit of work, consisting of only a front and a back, held together by strings at the neck, chest, and waist. Laine was slender and leggy. Her auburn hair was pulled up to keep it out of the water. Harry couldn't look away from her either. He'd seen the girls in his form change on the train before, but he'd never seen Laine's skin. She wasn't pale, per se, but she had nowhere near the sun exposure of the older girls.

Ginny was a redhead, and she had the typical fair skin that went with it. She'd gotten a bit of sun, and freckles had broken out all over her cheeks and shoulders. She looked a bit like a rose with her green swimsuit. It was a conservative one-piece, covering all of her chest and tying behind the neck.

"What's a start?" Pansy asked again. The boys had both been oogling the girls.

"Theo," Harry said, wrenching his eyes back to Pansy's face. "He's here."

"I admit, I'm surprised to see him. His father decide to turn against You-Know-Who, then?"

Harry and Draco exchanged a long glance. Harry shook his head slightly.

"No, but Theo did," was all he said, "and he's not dealing with it well. So I'm going to ask that nobody ask him about it. Let him come to us. There's more going on than you're aware, and it's not our place to say. Please just give him space and don't give him any grief. He'll tell you when he's ready."

"It's all solemn and such," Pansy observed.

"I'm being absolutely sincere."

"Okay, then. It'll be hard, but I'll do it."

"Thank you, Pansy."

"Is the water warm?"

"Find out for yourself," Draco needled her.

"Draco, if I can't abuse Theo, who do you think is going to take his place?"

"You already abuse me."

"I know, Draco. I know." Pansy had a bit of an evil smile when she wanted to. Not on the best of terms with Draco since the Yule Ball disaster when he had broken up with her to ask out Parvati Patil, they had maintained a frosty tolerance of each other. She was always quick to make sly comments about Draco or his character or his habits. It was much as she always had done with Theo.

"Daphne, see if the water's warm," Pansy said.

"Tracy, see if the water's warm," Daphne redirected.

"You two are so chicken," Tracy said flippantly. She stepped forward and poked one foot into the wall of water. "Ooh, it's great!" she said and got right in.

Pansy followed, then Daphne, Laine, Ginny, and Millie. Arcen and Lucas had yet to emerge from the changing room.

"Oh, this is fantastic," Pansy gushed. "What a wonderful idea. Harry, your godfather is a genius."

"Yes, he is."

"Anyone read the Prophet this morning?" she said.

No one had.

"There's more scandal with Gilderoy Lockhart."

"Oh no," Daphne said. "What's he done now?"

"He was found in _flagrante delicto_ with the Spanish Mistress of Magic."

"He wasn't!"

"Oh yes."

"I can't believe no country has been willing to send him back so he can be properly arrested."

"The man's a disgrace," Harry said. "I bet they're all pointing at him and laughing at all Britons."

"Probably. He humiliates us all," Daphne agreed.

Eventually Arcen and Lucas joined them.

"What took you so long?" Daphne asked sassily.

"So are we doing anything, or are we just sitting here?" Lucas asked.

"I suppose we could play a game. Perhaps we could have a competition. It wouldn't be a true Slytherin party without some sort of competition."

"We could do some races. Who's fastest to do so many lengths of the room, and so on," Harry suggested.

"Sounds good. Let's do it."

There were six girls and six boys, not counting Theo, who sat by himself in the corner of the pool. The boys insisted on being the first to race. They lined up against the wall. The first to go the length of the room and back would be the winner.

"Ready?" Pansy called out. "Set. Go!"

Harry kicked off from the wall with a surge and began flailing mightily with his arms and kicking with his legs. He clawed his way through the water, not really knowing the tricks of how to go for distance with minimal effort. He made a great deal of splash and noise, but he'd never had any instruction on his form. He made progress through the water, but was quickly outdistanced by the others. Harry tried his best, but he was a mediocre swimmer at best. He'd gotten through the Second Task, but he still didn't really know what he was doing.

Draco won the race, a combination of strong strokes and good technique. Goyle and Crabbe were both big and lumbering in the water, while Arcen and Lucas were still growing into their bodies. 

Then it was the girls' turn to race.

"Let's go!" Millie said, hurrying to the starting point.

"No, I think I'm just going to lounge," Pansy declared. "Maybe do a few slow laps later."

"I'll join you," Daphne said. "The only thing we're missing in here is an artificial sun."

"The window seat will do," Laine suggested.

"Yes, it's perfect," Pansy said.

Pansy and Daphne moved towards the windowseat. Laine looked back as Ginny hesitated.

"Come on, Ginny."

"But-" The redhead looked longingly at the starting line where Millie was standing with her arms folded across her chest.

"Ginny!" Laine hissed. "What are you waiting for? We are hanging out with the older girls!"

"But I wanted to race."

"You'd rather race than sit with Pansy Parkinson?" Laine sounded like she couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"So we can gossip about stupid stuff? I can only take so much of that."

"You think Pansy is going to talk celebrity scandals with a war on? Ginny, wake up. She's going to want to know where our families and our friends' families stand. You _have_ been asking questions, I suppose?"

Ginny scowled. "Nobody will tell me anything. Dad says he doesn't know why anyone in the Ministry would listen to a thing he said and that nobody has anything to say to him. I still don't even know how come Charlie is home. He won't answer any questions. When pressed, he just asks Mum if she's glad to see him, and she goes all to pieces. Bloody unfair."

"What of your brothers? Surely they've been in communication with their friends?"

"Well yes, but-"

"You at least know who? You have a good feel for your brothers, yes? Then Pansy will want to know. She'll put it all together. Now come on!"

Ginny let herself be dragged away as Pansy glanced at Laine inquisitively.

As none of the girls other than Millie wanted to race, the boys got to go again. She joined them. The girls remained in the nook under the window, basking in the sunlight that streamed through the glass.

Harry did a few more races, and when he tired, he leaned against the wall and watched the others. Draco and Millie continued to dominate. Harry's attention wandered over to the girls. They weren't even watching the racing. They were talking amongst themselves.

Draco won again, got two up on Millie, and decided to retire. He waved the others on to one more race and leaned up against the wall next to Harry. Millie went and joined the girls at the window.

"So here's what we do," Draco said quietly, even though the girls were metres away. "We swim slowly under the water, sneak up on the girls, and grab them."

"Sounds smashing. They'll scream."

"That's the whole point."

"Hang on," Harry said. He ducked back into the changing room and fished his wand out of his pocket. He surreptitiously slipped back into the water. The girls hadn't noticed him leave. "This will help."

The Bubblehead Charm was something Harry had first learned while pursuing solutions to the Second Task.

"Let's go. Slowly now."

It was almost too easy. Harry glanced up and realized the legs in front of him belonged to Ginny. He admired them for a moment and checked to see if Draco was in position. He'd targeted Tracy.

Now!

Twin shrieks of surprise rang in the room as Ginny and Tracy were both yanked under. Quickly the boys grabbed for more legs, sending Pansy, Daphne, and Laine beneath the surface. Millie, however, lashed out with a foot and caught Draco square in the face.

"Ow!" he howled, clutching at his nose. His voice was distorted by the water. "I think you broke my nose!"

"Malfoy!" Millie yelled. "What are you doing?"

Draco emerged from the water. The bubble dissolved. "I'm being injured, I am."

"I'm being attacked!"

He gingerly touched his nose. His fingers came away red with blood. "I'm bleeding! Look at this!"

Now the other girls had finished sputtering and coughing.

"Malfoy!" "Potter!"

"Get them!"

Harry dove under the surface again and swam as fast as he could. It was not fast enough. Daphne, Ginny, and Laine caught him. They dragged him back to where Millie had Draco's arm twisted behind his head and Pansy was glaring at him as water dripped out of her hair. Tracy looked like she was ready to slug Draco, and her runny makeup made her look downright scary. Draco looked like he didn't need any more punishment; his nose dripped blood.

"Which one of you morons thought that would be funny?" Pansy demanded.

Harry and Draco remained silent.

"I see. Very well, then, we'll just have to hurt you both."

"Do your worst," Draco said bravely, which was amazing considering he was dripping blood.

"You couldn't handle my worst. Somehow I think this was your idea."

"Now that's just not fair."

"Harry is a caring, sensitive boy who occasionally listens to a first-class, grade-A prat named Malfoy. He would never come up with a dastardly plan like that," Tracy declared.

"I'll be leaving, then," Harry suggested.

"Oh no," Daphne said quickly. "You still took part. You're going to be punished, just not as bad."

"Draco gets stuck to the wall," Pansy decided. "Somebody good at Charms go get your wand. As for Harry?" she considered, one finger pressed against her cheek in thought. "The punishment must fit the crime. You want to tease girls? You want to act like bad boys and try to get us to pay attention to you? You want to act flirty and make a move? Granted. Your punishment is kisses."

"What?" Harry exclaimed.

"Kisses," said Daphne. "How perfect."

"One good solid smooch each, I'd say," Pansy considered.

"This is insane. Let go of me immediately. I'm- I'm a prefect, and I'm going to give you all detention!"

"I'm a prefect too, Harry," Pansy said with a wide smirk, "and I nullify your detentions. You're not getting out of this one. Me first."

"Pansy?" Harry said, starting to feel a little panicked. "Pansy, what are you doing? What about Terry? You're not going to really kiss me, are you?"

Yes, she really was.

Pansy put her hands on either side of his face and pulled his head down. Their lips met, and for a moment the world stopped.

"Happy birthday," Pansy said breathily as she let go of him.

Harry's face was flaming red. Oh, he was embarassed. Before he could even begin to process having kissed - been kissed - by Pansy, another girl leaned towards him.

"Daphne?"

Harry's coffee date had kissed him once before. She'd learned a lot since then. When she was done, Harry was breathless. Merlin help him, he wanted that kiss to go on.

"If Viktor finds out I was kissing Harry, he probably wouldn't be too happy. I'll pass."

"It's all in good fun, Millie," Pansy said, still smiling broadly.

"Is that what you plan to tell Terry?"

"Yes, actually. If I have to. I wasn't actually planning on letting him find out."

Tracy looked at Harry very longingly, but she turned away without a word.

Laine and Ginny were the last two girls left. Ginny gestured towards Harry. "You first," she said.

"I think not," she said primly. "Go ahead if you want to, but I am not going to throw myself at Harry just because he's landed himself in a spot of trouble."

Ginny shrugged. She looked at Harry and began to blush. "It's all in good fun," she said. She pecked him lightly on the lips. "Happy birthday."

"Here, what's all this then?" Goyle and the other boys were done with laps.

"Nothing at all. Just a little playing around."

"Why does Mils have Draco in an armlock?"

"Why _shouldn't_ Mils have Draco in an armlock?" Pansy retorted.

Goyle stopped to think about that, and he kept thinking.

"Don't let him hurt himself," Harry requested, his wits still scattered. His vision was still spinning. Wow.

Daphne laughed. "Quick, show him some food."

"Is there food?" Crabbe piped up. "I'm hungry."

"Naturally, fathead. Yes, I think there's food. Right, Harry?"

"Yes. I'm hungry too."

"Hang on, we still have to stick Draco to the wall," Pansy said.

But they didn't.

Everyone made for the changing rooms to towel off and put on clothing again. 

"Well, that was good fun," Lucas said. "What did you guys do?"

"We dunked them," Draco replied. "Swam under the water and pulled them down."

"I can't believe you did that to Millie," Arcen chuckled, shaking his head. "No wonder she nearly ripped your arm off."

"So why was Ginny kissing Harry?" Lucas wanted to know. "That doesn't make sense. You made a girl's head go under water, ruin her make-up, wreck her hair, and she kisses you?"

Harry felt himself start to blush a bit. When one considered it like that, it sounded awful. It didn't sound much better when one looked at the truth from his perspective.

"Blame Pansy for that one," Harry said. "She decided that we'd done what we did because we were being saucy with them. Then she declared that my punishment was to get exactly what I'd wanted."

"I can't believe she kissed you," Draco said, shaking his head. "First she takes up with Terry; now she's snogging my best mate. The girl hates me."

"You did bunk it up pretty badly," Harry told him. "Asking out her worst enemy just to make a point was over the line, and you knew it."

"She made me crazy. What else can I say? She wouldn't let up about the damned ball, not once asking me what I thought about any of it. That's not right."

"You still didn't have to ask Parvati."

"You're the one who gave me the idea."

"Did not."

"Did too."

"Whatever. It was fun while it lasted, but now you've got to deal with how you treated Pansy.

"Well, won't that be fun," Draco grumbled, moving his arm around to stretch the shoulder he'd had wrenched for him.

"It has been for me so far," Harry said, lightly mocking. "I think I'm still dizzy."

"Pansy _and_ Daphne," Draco exclaimed. "This is reminding me of that Christmas party at Greengrass's house when you were snogging with Daphne and Laine."

"What!" Lucas burst out. "You snogged my sister two years ago!"

"More like she snogged me," Harry defended. "I accidentally stood under some mistletoe, and she caught me."

"I don't know how he does it," Draco said deploringly, "but girls just throw themselves at Harry."

"Famous git," Arcen muttered.

Draco kept going. "Look at that classmate of yours, Lucas, who burned all of her standing just to have half a night with him."

"Michelle?"

"Yeah. Your sister was not pleased with that little stunt."

"I think she even got some of the upper year students to hex her," Arcen contributed, being careless with his pronouns.

"Laine had Michelle _hexed_?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"I'm surprised she hasn't been forced to leave school," Lucas said. "Laine didn't take the stab in the back lightly."

Harry knew about Laine's romantic interest in him, but he'd tried to keep from acknowledging it while avoiding Tracy and asking out Padma. She hadn't pushed the issue, and they'd been able to maintain a friendship. While Harry knew Laine had stopped talking to Michelle and encouraged others to do the same, he hadn't known about the hexing.

"It's not like I go looking for this."

"I know, mate, I know," Draco said with a sigh. "That's what makes it all the worse."

"But she didn't take advantage of the situation just now," Harry mused, suddenly thoughtful.

"Yeah, but Ginny sure did." Draco snickered. "Oh, wait until I tell Weasel about this."

"Don't you dare," Harry ordered. "I'm the one who gets to do it."

They had finished dressing by now. In the corridor they met the girls, and everyone headed for the dining room.

Sirius, Remus, and Mrs. Malfoy were sitting at the dining room table.

"Where did Father go?"

"He could not remain without endangering us. He returned to the House of Black."

Mr. Malfoy had left in order to not draw the attention of Voldemort to the party. Whenever he remained in one place for too long, Death Eaters would show up and attempt to kill him. It was hard to have to Apparate every thirty-three minutes. Mr. Malfoy was safe only so long as he remained under a Fidelius Charm or at Hogwarts where the protections were ancient and powerful.

"But he did request that we all have a good time anyway," Remus said. "What happened to your nose?"

"Ran into a wall."

"A wall named Millie," Arcen said with a snicker.

"Come here, Draco," Remus said. He drew his wand. " _Episkey!_ "

Draco yelped, but he touched his nose with both hands. There was no blood. "It's fixed!" he said with amazement. "I'm not bleeding!"

"Quite a handy little spell, that."

Kreacher had outdone himself with the food again. All of Harry's favourites were present. There were several courses, and everything tasted so _good_. Harry ate and ate, wondering how he was packing it all away. Crabbe and Goyle, naturally, consumed enough to feed a small army. Kreacher beamed as he filled the serving plates again and again.

After everyone had finished eating, Harry opened his presents. His friends had been both thoughtful and appropriate. There were the usual clothes from parents, music crystals from the lads, and assorted books and such from the ladies. He particularly liked the emerald cufflinks that came from the Malfoys. He didn't know when his next occasion to get up fancy would be, but he would be dressed to impress.

"Thank you, everyone," he said sincerely.

When all the presents were opened, admired, and appreciated, it was time for dessert. The birthday cake was magnificent. Seven layers and filled with custard, jam, and Butterbeer.

"I shouldn't be having any of this," Tracy said to Millie, "but I can't stop myself."

"Oh, stop complaining about your figure and enjoy it," Millie replied, stuffing a huge bite in her mouth. "If you can't stop, you might as well not feel guilty about it."

After the cake was finished, the hour had grown somewhat late. Dusk was the new curfew the Ministry had established. It was time to start heading back to town. One by one, Harry's guests were Side-Along Apparated back to Hogsmeade. Harry said goodbye to each as they left.

Draco and his mother left. Finally it was only Sirius, Remus, and Harry.

"Well, back home, then?" Sirius asked.

"Yes. I had a good time. Thank you."

"Our pleasure, Harry," Remus said. "It was fun."

They returned to Grimmauld Place. Mr. Malfoy was in the sitting room reading the newspaper.

"How did it go?" he asked.

"Delightful. Thank you again for helping to make it possible."

"My pleasure, Harry. There's another present for you from Elan. I put it in your room."

Harry found the box on his bed. It was wrapped in shiny green paper and tied with a dark green ribbon. Harry untied the ribbon and tore off the paper. Inside he found a magnificent mirror with an elaborately decorated frame. Though he had a functional mirror, this one tilted and swivelled to show him all kinds of angles. What a great present! He immediately set it on his dresser and admired it.

"Hello, there!"

Harry nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Who's there?"

"I am Shoshi, your Reflective Friend. I am here to provide the pinacle of fashion advice and help you look your absolute best to the rest of the world. What is your name, friend?"

Harry felt a little weirded by a talking mirror. He had a sudden strong reminder of Tom Riddle's diary.

"My name is Harry Potter."

"It is a pleasure to serve you, Harry Potter. Now, present your wardrobe for me."

Any suspicion that this might be another evil artefact vanished as Harry was made to show every single piece of clothing he owned to the mirror. Thankfully, Harry had managed to master the Levitation Charms suitable for this task. The whole task took nearly an hour.

"Well," the mirror declared. "I've seen worse."

"Weren't you brand new?"

"Yes, but it's- Do you really want the technical details?"

"Not really."

"Then trust me, dear, I've seen worse. Looking at you, hrmm. Well, I can work with it. Take off those robes for me."

"What?!" Harry blushed to the roots of his hair. "I'm not taking off my robes."

"I need to see your frame. Robes cover up a lot. If I am to do my job properly, I need to see what I'm working with."

_It's only a mirror,_ Harry told himself as he slowly pulled off the robes he'd worn to his party. _It's only a magic mirror, not a real girl._

"Well, not bad at all," the mirror said somewhat admiringly. "Very muscular. You lift weights."

"How can you tell?"

"Harry, I am a Reflective Friend. I am a top-line magical mirror. It's what I do. Now, tell me about your social life."

Harry groaned and wondered if Elan secretly hated him.


	6. Mammals

It had been ten days since Harry's birthday party. In less than a month, he would return to school. One day passed much like another with his homework, his lessons, meal times, mild bickering between Sirius and Mr. Malfoy, and exchanging complaints of boredom via owl with his friends. All had been tranquil. Everything had been strictly routine. The summer had been quiet. Too quiet.

Azkaban was still in Voldemort's hands, and that could not be allowed to stand. Every so often there would be an attack, and the morning Daily Prophet would contain the names of those who had disappeared in the night. It was no secret that they were likely spirited away to Azkaban to be incarcerated and broken. The useful ones, that is; the purebloods. The impure were simply murdered. Harry read every name, promising that someday Voldemort would answer for each witch or wizard killed.

There were no more meetings of the Order of the Phoenix, at least none that Harry was told about. Sirius might have been sneaking out after Harry went to bed, but from his general attitude whenever the subject was brought up, Harry didn't think it likely. Sirius, like Harry, wanted to do something. He tried to pretend that all they could do was to get Harry's skills as sharp as possible, but it was plain that he wanted to be more active. Being confined to the house for the summer was as frustrating for him as it was for Harry.

Animagus practice had become a nightly thing with Harry. He was nearly the Master of his form. He was very busy during the days now with Apparition lessons, homework, and weight-lifting, but the most difficult part of his change was sleeping while transformed. Harry never woke up when he changed back, but he hoped he was lasting longer on each successive attempt. A couple of nights he'd tried to stay awake the whole time, but he'd been so groggy at Apparition lessons that he'd Splinched himself twice more. Looking down and seeing his hand missing had been bad enough. Losing his whole arm -- his wand arm at that! -- was truly horrifying. It was an experience he never wanted to go through again.

Apparition lessons had been going for just over three weeks, and neither Harry nor Draco had managed to get it right yet. They were frustrated, and so was their instructor, Mr. Malfoy. He was a hard taskmaster, more brutal than even Professor Snape could be. He berated them thoroughly for their lack of progress. He constantly reminded the boys that mastering Apparition might one day mean their lives.

Harry was determined that today would be the day he succeeded. He'd had enough of this stalled period. He wanted to have that breakthrough, to feel that rush of performing new magic for the first time.

Today, Elan had decided to join them. Though they were confined to the houses, they had not seen him much other than at meals every other evening. He spent much of his time in his room, writing letters urging people to support the Ministry effort against Voldemort. When Theo had needed someone to sit with him, Elan had volunteered. Harry was sure that it was Elan's urging that had made Theo decide to go to the party.

"There's been no change in Theo," he reported. "He still won't speak."

"I wonder if he's going to be like this when classes start," Harry said.

"Classes?" Draco said "Is he even going to be prepared for classes? He needs new books, robes, ingredients, and everything."

"Maybe Snape will take him."

"There's a sight I'd like to see. Snape doesn't exactly seem the paternal sort, does he?"

Harry considered Snape as a father. "I could see it. I think he'd figure it out eventually."

"Probably. Snape can do anything."

"How are you, Elan?"

"Draco asked me to provide a distraction. Father makes him nervous. I'll be showing off a bit."

Sirius and Mr. Malfoy finished their conversation and turned to the boys.

"You have been Side-Along Apparated a number of times," Mr. Malfoy said. "You know what it feels like. You can do this. Remember the three D's. Destination, determination, and deliberation. Just turn on the spot and step sideways."

Elan demonstrated, popping across the room to where Sirius stood. "You're making it too complicated. You're over-thinking. Just relax and _do_ it. This will eventually be second-nature to you."

Mr. Malfoy kept up his running monologue, a combination of exhortion, instruction, denigration, and damnation for an hour with no progress. Harry broke out in virtual rivers of perspiration. His muscles all ached, and he hadn't lifted a single weight.

"I wish I knew what I was doing wrong," Harry complained, glaring at the innocent circle on the floor as though it were to blame for his lack of progress. He'd been shown the process many times, and as Mr. Malfoy said, he'd been exposed to it second-hand on many occasions. He should be able to do this.

"Focus on your destination!"

"My destination is the shower," Harry muttered. Draco snickered.

"Concentrate!"

All Harry could concentrate on was how tired he was, how beaten up and grubby he felt. For not having achieved anything, he certainly had worked up a good sweat. His muscles were sore and starting to tighten up. His legs and back ached like something awful. He honestly felt like someone had been hitting him with a stick. He started to daydream about a hot bath, which was dangerous. Daydreaming could lead to Splinching.

Harry tried to think about the circle on the floor, but he just couldn't do it.

"I was thinking," he muttered to Draco. "I really, really want to be in my bath right now. Perhaps more than anything else in the world, I want to be in the bath. So I wonder if-"

Harry closed his eyes. A blissful, peaceful expression came over his face. He turned on the spot and _popped_ out of existence.

The magical journey through the ether took only an instant. The horrid compressive feeling was already fading as Harry opened his eyes. The tile of the bathroom next to his bedroom greeted him. He'd done it.

Harry sat down on the edge of the bathtub before his legs gave out on him. His whole body felt drained. He closed his eyes and just _existed_ for a moment.

There was a commotion out in the house that was faintly heard through the bathroom door. Someone was coming up the stairs at a great hurry.

"Harry?"

Sirius sounded panicked. Harry called out reassuringly, "I'm in here, Sirius!"

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I think I did it!"

"No missing parts?" Sirius was _very_ worried.

Harry quickly checked himself. Two arms, two legs, ten fingers, ten toes, and the very important naughty bits were all accounted for.

"No, I'm all here."

"Well done. I'll be in the sitting room."

Harry pulled off his clothing bit by bit, dropping it carelessly to the floor. He turned the knobs of the tap and drew himself a hot bath. The shower would have been quicker, but he didn't trust his legs to hold him up. It was all he could do to get into the tub, because his knees were trembling with fatigue.

Steam rose in lazy currents. It looked so tremendously inviting. He stepped into the soothing water with a sigh of relief. The heat felt wondrous on his aching muscles. He lay back and closed his eyes. By Merlin, he was worn out, but he'd done it! He'd finally managed to Apparate!

Now that he'd done it once, he would have to do it again. Harry hoped he would be able to recreate that determination. Right now, though, the very idea of Apparating again made him yawn. He didn't go to sleep, per se, but he did lose track of time as he relaxed.

After being in the bath for what his watch informed him had been nearly an hour, Harry felt much better. He dried off, wrapped the towel around his waist, and headed to his room. The air of the room circulated through the open window, generating a breeze that ruffled the curtains and felt good on Harry's skin. He casually dropped the towel to the floor and strode over to his dresser to pull out some clothes.

"Oh, how scandalous!" his mirror said. Shoshi had a pleasant alto voice, was decidedly female, and could be absolutely pushy. "Young man, put some clothes on at once!"

"I'm in the privacy of my own room," Harry retorted, "and I'm getting there."

He put some pants on first, then a pair of short trousers. Now the mirror was not so shocked.

"You should wear a tight shirt to emphasize your chest," Shoshi advised. "Those muscles are dreamy, and the girls will be swooning left and right."

"Not like I'm going to be seeing a lot of them," Harry said ruefully. "I'm locked up here all summer."

"Then your absence will make their hearts grow fonder," the mirror declared, "and you must be prepared for when they see you again. I'll get right to work on that. You're going to look fabulous!"

Harry couldn't help but grin. The enchanted mirror had been a birthday present from Elan. Upon first setting it up, he'd been shocked to hear it introduce itself. He'd gone through a grilling for information about his wardrobe, his social life, what his general needs were. It had taken hours, and he'd cursed Elan quite vociferously. Once it had settled down, however, the mirror had become much more subdued, only occasionally asking questions about changes in lifestyle. Now it just offered really good fashion advice.

Once he was dressed, Harry left his room and went to look for Sirius. It wasn't quite time for lunch yet, and Sirius was found in the sitting room reading his post. Mr. Malfoy was also there, reading a scroll of parchment.

"Hello."

"Harry, there you are. Everything all right?"

"Yes, Sirius, I'm fine."

"Congratulations, Harry."

"Thank you, Mister Malfoy."

"You have done it once. Tomorrow you will do it again. Into the circle, if you please."

"Yes, sir. Where are Draco and Elan? I thought we could play cards."

"I sent them home to deliver a message to Narcissa. Perhaps you could go over to the manor later tonight?"

"No, I've got plans." The full moon was tonight, and Harry planned to be down in the basement with Padfoot and Moony in his Animagus form, but Draco didn't know about that yet, so Harry wanted to change the subject. He looked at Sirius. "Anything exciting in the post?"

Sirius smiled. "Well, I've found one."

"One what?"

"Pensieve."

"Really?" Harry asked. "That's the thing you put memories in, right?"

"Indeed, Harry. I've been asking around, and I finally managed to locate an Artificer who knows how to make one. She sent me an estimate, I arranged payment, and she just sent me notice that she's begun working on it. It should be ready in about six months."

"You're paying for a new Pensieve, cousin?"

"I am, Lucius."

Mr. Malfoy cocked his head slightly. "Why?" he questioned, throwing all kinds of inflection on to the single word.

"Because I want one."

"You should have told me you were looking for one. I have one sitting in my vault at Gringott's that is supposed to have been made by Llewellyn the Longsighted."

"That's very generous of you, Lucius, but it suits me to have my own. For some reason, there isn't one amongst the many treasures of the Black family. Not that I've found anyway."

"How much are you paying this Artificer?"

"Twenty thousand Galleons."

Mr. Malfoy winced. "Cousin! Is that the best you could bargain to?"

"I talked her down from thirty."

"That's sheer extortion."

"Yes, that's one word for it," Sirius said pleasantly. "It's simple economics, Lucius. I have a demand, and there's no supply except her. It took me ages just to find her."

"I'm sure I could have expidited things. I could have found someone willing to sell."

"I'm sure you could have, Lucius, but the fact is I decided to engage in my own dealings." Sirius sounded like he was getting irritated. "You think I overpaid? Fine, but remember that I am a Black. We know how to spend money. We don't do it often, but always with style and flair."

"That's a _lot_ of flair, Sirius."

"You're just mad I didn't involve you."

"I am a businessman."

"Looking for a commission?"

"I only want to wet my beak."

Sirius snorted rudely and picked up another letter.

"Do you think we'll see Remus for lunch?" Harry asked, saying something to fill the awkward silence.

The door to the sitting room was open, and a floorboard creaked with a sudden footstep.

"Did somebody say Remus?"

"Why yes. I was just asking if we'd see you for lunch."

"How's business, Remus?" Sirius asked.

"Not good, Sirius. Not good."

"Not warm enough for ice cream?"

"It's always warm enough for ice cream. No, the weather is agreeable enough. It's quite hot out. There are plenty of people out and about as well, but they just seem to be avoiding me today."

"You don't look well, Lupin."

"Thank you, Malfoy. I appreciate the concern." Remus did not seem appreciative. "I think I will stay in for the rest of the day. There's no point in being out there and having my product melt."

"Certainly not."

"Are you hungry, Remus?" Sirius inquired.

"I feel a mite peckish."

"Let's eat, then."

In the dining room, Kreacher took orders for preparing lunch.

"Bread for sandwiches. A selection of sliced meats," Harry said, going first. "Cheese. Yellow mustard."

"Anything exciting happen since breakfast?" Remus asked.

"Nothing much," Sirius deadpanned. "I got some good news about a special project I've been working on, Lucius and I had a disagreement, and Harry managed to Apparate."

"Congratulations, Harry!" Remus shouted. He clapped Harry on the shoulder. "Well done!"

"Thanks, Remus."

"Now you have to do it again tomorrow."

"That's what they tell me," Harry said ruefully. "I hope it's easier now that I've done it once."

"I believe it will be. It was for me." Remus looked to Sirius. "What was in the post? Is there any news about Theo?"

"No word lately from the castle."

Harry shook his head. "Elan says he's still not talking. I hate seeing him like this. I just feel so- so-"

"Helpless?"

"Yeah. There's nothing I can do for him."

"I know it doesn't feel like you're doing anything," Remus said, "but simply being there is a lot. He's got to be trying to wrap his brain around everything. Until he can come to terms with what he's done, he's not going to be his old self. It was a good sign to see him at the party. He knows his friends are still here, even if for the time being, he's choosing to face his daemons alone."

"You sound pretty certain."

"I know a thing or two about facing one's daemons."

"Do you think you could help Theo?"

"If he should seek my help, I will gladly give it."

"I'll make sure he knows that."

"Good," Remus said, wiping his mouth on his napkin. "Excellent lunch. Thank you, Kreacher. Now, I think I'm going to visit the library. It's nice and quiet in there. Plenty of dim light to sooth the eyes. I've got a monster of a headache."

"I have more communications to make with various Ministry officials," Mr. Malfoy said. "Also a great deal of headache."

Remus smiled at the joke. He exited the dining room and walked across the entrance hall to the library. Mr. Malfoy followed him out but headed to the staircase.

"Feel up to some lifting?" Sirius asked.

"Maybe," Harry said after a moment's consideration. "I'm still pretty knackered from this morning."

"Understandable. Let's take it easy. We'll do low weight, high reps."

"Sounds good."

Harry and Sirius headed to the first floor weight room. Harry didn't bother to look through any of the music crystals and simply tapped his wand to begin whatever they'd left in last time. It turned out to be Wand Smasher, and one of Harry's favorite tunes began. They'd played "Irresistible Force, Immovable Object" at his first show -- dedicated it to him, even. The song was incredible, and he'd been a fan of the band ever since.

The light workout was actually making Harry feel somewhat better. Once his muscles warmed up, he actually thought he might be able to lift a bit more weight. He reached for his wand.

"Something wrong?" Sirius asked.

"No, just going to increase the weight a bit."

"Too light?"

"I just think I can do some more."

"Be careful. Remember we're going to do lots of reps."

"I will."

He turned the density up by only one point instead of the two he'd intended. He raised the bar up twice to test it. He nodded. Sirius had been right. The weight was good, and while he could have easily lifted an additional point, he probably couldn't do it for a great length of time.

Harry had settled down into a good rhythm, lifting with the beat of the music. The sudden end of the song (it ended on a three-beat) caught Sirius off-guard as it always did, and he dropped his weight. It clanged loudly in the sudden quiet; the album was over.

"Graceful," Harry said teasingly. "Practice that one a lot, do you?"

"All the time. It's always better to let a weight fall than try to catch it if you're not set. The ground doesn't get hurt. You do."

"Right. I'll remember."

"How's your homework coming along?"

"It's coming. I'm almost done with everything."

"You've got less than a month to go, kiddo. Any assignments complete yet?"

"A few. I tried to get McGonagall's out of the way first, but I think I might have to go back to it. History was easy enough, if a bit boring."

"This from the boy who likes history?"

"Yup. Binns is a boring teacher, and his assignments aren't very fun either. I wonder if there's some way we can get him replaced by someone a bit more alive."

"But then what would poor old Binns do?" Sirius asked. "His whole reason for remaining on this plane is to educate young minds."

"Maybe we can help him move on somehow. I'd love to see Abraham Montague come back to Hogwarts to teach. He's the one who really made me see that History could be interesting."

"The ability to inspire young minds is a rare and valued quality in a teacher. Plenty don't have it."

"Is that a dig at Snape?"

Sirius grinned. "I don't know _what_ you could possibly be talking about."

Harry snorted. "A likely story. Snape's a great teacher. He just has no use for idiots and time-wasters."

"Never did have a lot of patience, Sniv. I must say, it really is surprising that he's teaching. I thought he'd be holed up in some windowless dungeon brewing potions and inventing nasty new hexes. Do you know he arrived at Hogwarts knowing more jinxes than most of the third years?"

"Nothing wrong with knowing a few spells."

Sirius put down his weights and took a long drink of water. He mopped at his forehead with a towel.

"Care for a rest?"

"Sure."

"Pick a new music crystal."

Harry poked through the rather large selection of bands that they'd acquired. Sirius had gone into Mortimer's Music and bought one of everything. Harry pulled out something new.

"I wonder what The Spellbinders sound like."

"Let's find out."

The first song was very melodic, with few words for the first five minutes or so. The guitar was like nothing Harry had ever heard before. It felt like a rippling river as it moved from chord to chord. The drums weren't very dominant but more of a background thing, soft and emphatic rather than driving.

"Interesting," Harry said.

"I like it. It's very relaxing. I don't know that it's appropriate to lift weights to. I think something to get the adrenaline pumping would be better, but I do like it."

"Shall I swap it out?"

"No, let's keep listening. We're doing low weight anyway."

They continued to lift and listen. The next song had a bit of a livelier feel and also lyrics, which helped. It was two sisters trading verses about their childhood, and Harry wished he had siblings so he could identify more with the story. The third tune was just starting when they were interrupted.

"I found it!" came a shout from downstairs. "Sirius! Harry! I found it!"

Harry and Sirius looked at each other with inquisitive expressions. They both put down their weights and reached for towels to wipe the sweat off their brows as they headed for the ground floor.

"Remus?" Sirius called out as they entered the library. "Everything all right?"

"I found it, Padfoot!"

"What now?"

"I know what animal Harry turns into!"

Harry felt a shiver run down his spine. "What am I?"

"Take a look for yourself." Moony spun the book around and shoved it towards Harry.

 

Mongoose

Mongooses (Herpestidae) are a family of 33 species of small carnivorans from southern Eurasia and mainland Africa. The mongoose ranges from 1–4 feet (0.30–1.2 m) in length. Mongoose range in weight from the squirrel-sized Common Dwarf Mongoose, at 280 g (9.9 oz), to the cat-sized White-tailed Mongoose, at 4 kg (8.8 lb). Some species lead predominantly solitary lives, seeking out food only for themselves, while others travel in groups, sharing food among group members.

The mongoose is impervious to neurotoxic snake venoms, one reason why it is known as a serpent killer. The Indian Mongoose and others are popularly used to fight and kill venomous snakes, including vipers. They can do this because of their agility and cunning, their thick coat, as well as the immunity. The mongoose typically avoids the cobra and has no particular affinity for consuming its meat.  
  
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"Look at that picture. That's Harry, no doubt."

"A mongoose, eh? Well, there were worse things to be, like a rat," Padfoot interjected.

"Not bad at all," Moony said.

"Pretty cool," Padfoot retorted. "I think it definitely helped him get through that Maze. A hippopotamus wouldn't have been so useful."

"It did at that. I think it's a very good omen," Moony said. "Mongooses are known for killing snakes. I can think of a pretty big snake that needs killing."

It was true that Voldemort -- or rather, Tom Riddle -- had been a Slytherin. Harry was prophesized to kill him, so his form being a mongoose made a certain amount of sense. Harry didn't know how much he liked the symbolism, though. He was a snake himself, and loyalty to the house and your fellow snakes was paramount. Could he get excited about killing a fellow snake? 

He should go find a real snake, Harry realized, and ask it. If snakes would fight each other, then he supposed he could accept being a snake who turned into a mongoose in order to kill other snakes. Or something. By Merlin, he was confused. 

"Well, it's good to know finally," Harry said. "I was starting to think I was something new."

"No, I knew I recognized it," Moony said. "I just couldn't place it. No wonder! They're not from around here."

The discovery came right in time for the full moon that very night, the second Thursday in August. Now instead of having to painstakingly picture his animal form in his mind, Harry could use "mongoose" as a trigger. He could change in a flash now. He demonstrated to Padfoot before they headed down to dinner.

"Padfoot, I want to show you something."

He changed instantly into the mongoose. He ran around his godfather's feet once and changed back.

"Look at how fast I can do this!"

He became the mongoose again. He sat back on his hind feet and chattered up at Padfoot briefly. He became Harry. Several more times he demonstrated his transformation. It was so nearly effortless. Knowing what he was changing into had solidified his skill. It was so easy to do! He felt like he could do it all day.

"Enough, Harry, enough!" Padfoot said, holding up his hands. The smile on his face beamed so brightly that he could have steered boats away from dangerous shores. He clapped Harry on the shoulders. "My boy," he said thickly. "I think you're ready. Oh, I wish Prongs could be here for this."

Harry wished that too, but Padfoot had finally said the word. He was ready to enter the special room in the cellar with Moony and face down a werewolf. "Yes!"

"If things go badly, Moony might get his claws into you. Sudden shocks to the body can cause you to revert if you're not all the way there. If that happens, I'll protect you until you can change back. It's harder to change when you're distracted by pain, but with you there as well, he should be a bit more tractable. The more of us there were, the easier it goes for him."

"I've been looking forward to this since forever."

"I always knew one day I'd be helping your dad teach you this stuff," Padfoot replied, his tone and his eyes a bit distant. "I knew one day we'd let you run with the Marauders. Now Moony and Padfoot are the only Marauders left, but tonight we will be three. You need a name."

"Like you said, it will be apparent."

"I can't wait. Let's go eat."

"I don't think I can," Harry confessed. "I'm too excited."

"You'll need your strength tonight."

Dinner was quiet. Mr. Malfoy made attempts to keep the discussion going, but nobody wanted to talk. All Harry could think about was what would happen in a few hours, and Remus seldom had the presence of mind to carry on conversation on the night of the full moon. He was always distracted, as though listening to music only he could hear. As the hour grew later, the worse it became.

After dinner, Harry, Sirius, and Remus headed for the kitchen in the basement. They sat at the table drinking coffee and waited for the hour to grow nigh. They bantered a bit, but as the laughter faded away, Moony stood up. His face was haggard, and his eyes distant.

"It's time."

There was no need for words. All of them knew what to do. Harry and Padfoot stood. Together the three wizards entered the cell. Sirius closed the door. The lock clicked. The bar fell into place.

" _Aromahola!_ " Padfoot spoke the words that activated the magicks on the lock and put his wand away.

Harry closed his eyes. _Mongoose_ , he thought and willed the change. Instantly he was in his Animagus form. Scents assailed his nose. His eyes were sharp and keen. The sounds of spiders weaving webs was plain to hear.

Padfoot flowed into the shape of the enormous, bear-like dog. His scent struck Harry's nostrils with a familiar musk. Padfoot was a friend, a companion, a guardian. Many times they had raced through the halls of Grimmauld Place. The two Animagi had had lots of fun times.

Moony was beginning his own transformation, more painful than theirs. Harry had never seen this before, only heard it. He watched through the eyes of an animal as Moony pulled off his robes and stood there in his pants. His body began to swell, as though he were taking a great breath. His head and body were lengthening. His shoulders were hunching. Hair was sprouting visibly on his face and hands, which were curling into clawed paws.

The wolf glared up at them. Insane hatred blazed out from the yellow eyes. He slowly got to his feet, his head kept low. Growls emerged from deep in his throat. His body heaved with ragged breaths. He howled deep and slow, a call of awakening.

_Kill. Chase, tear, kill, devour!_

Padfoot stepped forward to face the wolf. He was nearly the same size, slightly smaller, but he didn't give an inch. He also held his head low, to protect his throat. His hackles were raised. He growled right back.

_No. Play. Have fun._

_Fun?_

_Chase, play, fun._

_Fun!_

The growling stopped. The wolf shuddered and then began to shake himself as though shaking off water. His lips pulled back in a ferocious smile. He bowed his head for a moment. His ears, which had been laying flat against his head, suddenly perked up.

_Padfoot?_

_Moony._

_Padfoot._

_Moony._

The madness had receded somewhat. Moony was clearly in there somewhere, struggling to maintain control over the beast within his soul.

_Boy._

Harry did his best to calm his puffed up fur as shivers of fear ran up and down his body. He resisted the urge to chatter warningly. The werewolf was tremendously dangerous, and Harry wanted to flee.

_Friend._

_Friend?_

Moony sat back on his haunches and scratched himself. He stood and began to pace back and forth in the tiny cell, the restlessness of the wolf needing an outlet.

He watched Harry, who crept closer, his own curious nose twitching furiously. Harry was a new smell to the wolf. Feeling Moony's snout snuffle along his back nearly made Harry jump out of his skin. Every instinct of his mongoose form was screaming to him to run away as fast as he could. He forced himself to stand there and be sniffed.

When Moony had finished investigating Harry, he seemed to calm a bit. The pacing slowed a bit, though it did not stop. 

_Friend._

Harry's euphoria was at once both total and completely alien. It was the relief of the mongoose, which understood with Harry's human brain, that the wolf was not an enemy. He would have to watch for flashes of the rage, but he wouldn't be on edge with anticipation.

The cell was big enough that the two larger animals could race and tussle without too much trouble. Racing was a good way to burn off the wolf's rage, and Moony liked to win. Padfoot was his only real competition. Harry's mongoose was quick, but length of limb mattered greatly. He watched the racing from the centre of the cell.

Padfoot lay down between Harry and Moony. His tongue lolled out of his mouth, and his breathing was heavy.

Moony lay down as well, but his head stayed up. Harry hopped over Padfoot and scurried up on to Moony's head. He perched there as Moony tried to look up. He leaned down and peered in Moony's face.

"Ick ick ick!"

Moony barked in what was unmistakably a laugh. He stood up and began to trot around the room, Harry still sitting squarely on his head.

The games went on for several hours. Harry was actually having quite a lot of fun. He was able to garner from what Padfoot was saying that Moony was much more tractable than he usually was. There hadn't been a single fight.

But all things must eventually come to an end. In the middle of yet another race, Moony fell to the floor with a howl of pain. He began to claw at his body, leaving great bloody gashes. Harry moved closer to investigate, but Padfoot caught him by the scruff of the neck and lifted him away.

_Moony!_ Padfoot called out, trying to reach through the madness.

With a snarl, Moony lunged at Padfoot, knocking him aside. He snapped his jaws for Harry, but Harry was quick enough to evade. He chattered at Moony, scolding him profusely. He dodged the teeth again.

Then Padfoot was there. He slammed into the wolf with all of his mass and followed it up with a bite at the throat.

Harry tried to get through to Moony, somewhere under that bad-tempered wolf. _Moony!_

The werewolf broke away from his struggle with the great dog and curled up on the floor. He clawed at himself again, screaming with pain with each fresh wound that opened up. He threw back his head and howled, a sound filled with agony and anger.

Harry jumped up on Padfoot's back. He chattered quickly, trying to communicate his thoughts.

_Moony!_ they cried together. _Be strong!_

It seemed that he heard them. His thrashing stilled, and his cries of pain quieted to whimpers. Moony looked up at them with mourning eyes. Padfoot slowly approached and snuffled at his head. He lay down next to Moony, who was having a time of it just to breathe. His side rose and fell in rapid succession, and Harry jumped lightly off of Padfoot's back and over to Moony's other side. He sat back on his haunches and chattered softly.

Most of Moony's energy seemed to have been drained by the last bout of madness. He lay still for quite some time, and Harry dared to wonder if he'd fallen asleep. But no, once his breathing grew less frenzied, Moony leaped to his feet and began his awful pacing again.

Harry was very worn out, but he joined Padfoot as they raced around the cell some more. He hadn't realized how absolutely tiring being up all night with a werewolf could be. He hoped he would be able to make it through. He really didn't want to turn back into a human before Moony did.

Finally the night waned. The moon set, and Moony was finally able to get some rest. The sound of snoring came from his direction. He wouldn't change back into a human until the sun rose, but at least he was no longer in torment.

Harry wasn't quite ready to brave sleeping, though he was struggling to keep his eyes open. He wished he'd drunk more coffee after dinner. He forced himself to stay on his feet, to keep walking around.

The sun at last came up. Though there were no windows in this underground cell, the sunrise was apparent. Moony transformed back into a man with scarcely a whit of the dramatics that accompanied the earlier change. His body shrank, the hair faded, and the face returned to normal, but the horrible gashes where he'd turned his claws on himself remained. They did not bleed, but they practically glowed with an eerie red intensity.

Padfoot roused himself with a great shake. He looked at Moony, back in his human body, and resumed his own proper shape. He smiled hugely, despite the tiredness plain on his face. "Well done," he said to Harry.

Harry also changed back. The first thing he did was to yawn wide enough for Hagrid to walk through. He wondered if he'd be able to make it up to his bed.

"Is he going to be okay?"

"Those injuries will fade in a day or so. There are a few salves that can help."

"Let's get out of here."

"Moony, time to get up."

Moony opened his eyes. "Hello, old friend."

Padfoot reached down and gave Moony a hand up. He took out his wand and removed the magical protections keeping the werewolf inside. The locks opened. The three men walked out.

Mr. Malfoy was waiting for them on the other side of the door. He sat at the table in his dressing gown, blond hair tied back with a matching green ribbon, with a pot of tea in front of him and his arms folded across his chest. He seemed very perturbed, and the expression on his face could not be mistaken.

"Sirius, what insanity is this? Why is Harry in this cell? Why are you in this cell? What the devil is going on here?"

"Good morning, Lucius. Would you please not shout? We've had a long night."

"Answer me."

"We kept Remus company. I always do this."

"You _what?_ "

"Oh yes. Since we were lads. It's a hoot."

"Now you've gotten Harry involved?"

"Certainly."

"This is absurd!"

"Not at all. It's his right to run with us, in the place that was his father's."

"James Potter was also a party to this?"

"It wasn't a party _unless_ James was there."

Mr. Malfoy could not seem to summon the words to carry on this conversation. He turned and headed up the stairs.

Padfoot snorted. "What did he _think_ we were doing down here?"

"Maybe he thought we were just hanging out outside the door."

"Maybe."

"Harry, thank you for being there for me last night. I felt more myself than I have in many moons. Your presence helped me keep my mind, anchor my reason."

"I was glad to be there, Moony. How about next time we lock Lucius in the cell and have the free run of the house?"

Padfoot laughed uproariously.

"Since when do you call him by his first name?" Moony asked.

"You and Sirius do it, and so I've come to associate his name with him."

"I wouldn't slip in front of him."

"I haven't. I won't, either."

"Good plan."

"How about the other plan?"

"Locking him up?" Padfoot said. "Sounds perfect."


	7. The Order Of The Phoenix

It was not quite two weeks before the start of school. The Order of the Phoenix hadn't had a meeting since the small group had gathered in Dumbledore's office. Harry was frankly starting to wonder if they were going to do anything at all. So far, all of the action had been by Voldemort. He was making raids, abducting people, killing people, and yet the Order had done nothing. The Ministry hadn't done any attacking either, but at least they were readying their defences. Harry couldn't see any evidence that Dumbledore was doing anything.

Sirius opened his post that Saturday morning after breakfast and scowled fiercely as he read the contents of the message. He thrust the parchment away from him with disgust.

"Bad news?" Harry asked.

"There's finally another meeting."

"Well that's a good thing. When?"

"Tonight."

"Well, that's fine. I expect I should wear something sober so he doesn't think I'm playing a game." Harry began to plot his wardrobe. A dark green shirt with grey trousers and vest. Then his green robes over that.

"The letter says to come alone."

"What?"

"Dumbledore doesn't want me to bring you to a full meeting," Sirius said sourly.

Harry picked up the letter and glanced at it. Professor Dumbledore's neatly ornate handwriting with all of its loops and flourishes was unmistakeable.

"Sirius, this is talking about a Muggle opera. How can you tell?"

"Code. The particular lines he cited refer to a meeting, and the character who sings the lines goes alone. There are other lines in the song sung by people who go together, and that means all members should be told. When it's this summons, it's by invitation only."

"Well bugger that."

"My thoughts exactly," Sirius agreed. "I think he's worried about being too open about involving you."

"I'm already involved."

"I know, and that's why we're going to give you every weapon we can think of."

"So is this meeting at Malfoy Manor?"

"Yes."

Mr. Malfoy had offered up his home as headquarters when they'd had nowhere else to go. Though he himself could no longer go there, Mrs. Malfoy ruled the place now with an iron fist. The Order had set up shop in the east wing.

"I can't wait."

Yet wait he did. He was kept busy by his Apparition training, and he'd built on his earlier success. He could now easily Apparate across the room to a place he could see. Draco had managed the trick once, but he continued his efforts in that regard while Harry attempted to move from the duelling room to the hall outside.

After far too long, Mr. Malfoy called an end to the lesson. Harry was very glad, because he was getting frustrated at his partial success. He kept on moving only part of the distance. Thankfully he did not Splinch himself.

"I'm going to have a bath before lunch," he declared.

"Wonderful idea," Draco agreed. "I'll have one too. All this sweat has me smelling like stinksap. I'm as dirty as a Weasley, and that just Will Not Do. My muscles are so stiff I can barely move."

"Complain, complain, complain," Harry teased. "Would you like me to levitate you upstairs, or can you make it on your own?"

Draco contemplated that for a few moments, and Harry shoved him towards the door. The two boys headed up to the third floor. Mr. Malfoy and Remus had the two bedrooms on the opposite side of the house and shared the bath Harry now showed Draco to. The bath next to his room he shared with Sirius, whose bedroom was up on the fourth floor.

The hot water felt delightful, as it always did after a hard lesson. Harry was quite content to soak in the tub for an hour or so. Much relaxed and reinvigourated, he toweled off, got dressed, and headed down to lunch.

After a hearty meal, Harry and Draco headed back upstairs to attempt some more homework. They were nearly done with their holiday assignments, with only Professors McGonagall, Sinistra, and Binns left to satisfy. They had less than two weeks to get it done. Harry worried about the theoretical portion of Transfiguration; he was quite sure he could do any task old McGonagall asked of him without effort.

The time soon came to depart for the meeting.

"Harry, you've been to Malfoy Manor quite a lot. Do you think you could Apparate there?"

"Isn't it pretty far?"

"It is, but your familiarity with the destination will counteract the distance."

Harry shook his head. "I have no desire to Splinch myself again. Even if I do it right, I'll be exhausted. I'd probably nod off and start snoring in the meeting."

"As you will. Let's go then."

Sirius held out his hand, and Harry took it. Remus held out his hand to Draco. The four men Disapparated. The sickening crush lasted only a moment. The nausea was brief.

They were in the courtyard where water bubbled from the sea serpent fountain with a cheerful splashing.

The double doors were open, and one of the house elves stood there.

"Meeting is in the ballroom, sirs."

Mrs. Malfoy came along, undoubtedly alerted to their presence by another house elf.

"Hello, Harry, dear. Hello, Sirius, Remus. Draco, you and Harry go find your brother. Stay out of trouble, and stay out of the way."

"Yes, mum."

Mrs. Malfoy began talking quietly to Sirius and Remus as Harry and Draco headed upstairs.

"So they're keeping us out of the meeting," Harry said.

"Bunk. Who do they think they're dealing with? This is my home. I know all the secret passages. There's three of them with access to the ballroom alone."

"What if they move the meeting?"

"There's not a single room in this house, bedrooms aside, that you can't watch from a secret passage."

"Good."

"It's useless," Elan said, not even saying hello.

Elan looked a right mess. His hair was untidy, his clothes were wrinkled, and he hadn't shaved in several days.

"Obviously you haven't had a date lately," Harry observed cheekily.

"Blame Mother for that," Elan rued. "I can't go anywhere or the Death Eaters might snatch me up. I've had no social life all summer. Bridget asked me if I'm planning to break up with her. I had to write a foot of love note just to make her feel better."

"Poor thing," Draco said, offering not very sincere sounding comfort. "Doesn't she realize we're all in the same boat?"

"Women aren't rational like that, little brother."

"You don't need to tell me how crazy girls are," Draco retorted.

"You've got to treat them right, and when things like this happen where you can't, you've got to reassure them of your affections. Why do you think Parvati got so upset with you?"

"Can we not talk about her?"

"Sure."

"So do you want to go spy on the meeting with us?"

"What's the point? You're just going to get caught."

"Says you."

Harry followed Draco into a secret passage. He lit his wand and carefully trod the narrow steps down to the ground floor again.

"This will do. It's hard to focus on anything in the painting on the other side of this wall. It's a fruit bowl. I think the eyeslits are the grapes."

They'd gotten into place just in time. Remus and Sirius were already there, of course. They took seats and waited, exchanging idle chit-chat. Various members of the Order were arriving. 

The next person to enter the room was Sirius' cousin, Nymphadora Tonks. She had a pale heart-shaped face, dark twinkling eyes, and short spiky hair. She'd switched off the bubblegum pink colour she'd worn last time Harry had seen her and had changed it to a more lively electric blue. Harry thought she'd fit right in with the girls from Wand Smasher.

"Hey, cousin. Hello, Remus."

"Hi, Tonks," Remus replied.

"'Dora," Sirius said.

Tonks made an awful face at him. "Why?"

"Because."

"Bite me."

"How's she do that?" Draco asked. "Her hair, I mean. Even Pansy doesn't know potions that can make those colours."

"Tonks is a morphagus or something," Harry replied. "She can change her shape at will and such. She told me about it last Easter."

"She chooses to change her hair colour?"

"Wouldn't you if you could?"

"I like my hair, thank you very much," Draco said primly.

"Good. Why don't you comb it?"

"Is it mussed?" Draco said with concern. He pulled his comb out of his pocket. "I need a mirror."

"Oh, shut up."

In the ballroom, a bald black wizard who wore a single gold hoop in his ear had arrived. He greeted Sirius, Remus, and Tonks in a deep, slow voice.

"Hiya, Kingsley," Tonks said brightly. "Fancy seeing you here."

"Good to see you, Kingsley," Remus said. "How are things at the Auror Division?"

"Very busy," the wizard called Kingsley replied. "Many new recruits to train. I find myself missing Moody, strange as it sounds."

"Moody is the best," Tonks said. She was also an Auror and had been Moody's last apprentice.

A squat, unshaven man in a tattered overcoat slouched into the room. He had short, bandy legs, long straggly ginger hair and bloodshot, baggy eyes that gave him the doleful look of a basset hound.

"Shacklebolt," the newcomer said. "Lupin, Black, Tonks."

"Hello, Dung," Remus replied. "Still smoking that infernal pipe, I see."

"I left it at home. Narcissa threatened to tell the whole world I've turned informant if I brought it into her house again. It would have been disasterous for me. How'd you know I smoked right before I came?"

Remus tapped his nose. "The nose knows, and that baccy you favour is none too mild, either."

"Dung?" Draco said to Harry. "What kind of name is that?"

"Mundungus Fletcher. Maybe his mother didn't like him very much. Remus and Sirius have mentioned him before."

The next to arrive was a silver-haired wizard with a wheezy voice. He sat down at the nearest chair and drank deeply from the glass of water that the house elves had set out. Before anyone could clue the spies as to his name, a stately-looking witch in an emerald green shawl entered the room followed by a square-jawed wizard with thick straw-colored hair and a pink-cheeked, black-haired witch.

Harry recognized none of them, but he did know Dedalus Diggle, whose distinctive violet top hat and short stature were unmistakeable. Harry had met Diggle on several occasions.

A number of other witches and wizards entered in groups of two and three. The room was rather quickly filling up.

Professor Snape arrived next. He spoke to no one, and no one spoke to him. He sat as far away from Sirius and Remus as he could, his hood up, and his hands concealed in the sleeves of his robe.

Mrs. Malfoy escorted Professors Dumbledore and Moody into the ballroom. They closed the door, and the room fell silent. Mrs. Malfoy seated herself at the table.

"Are we ready to begin?" Dumbledore asked. Nobody said otherwise. "Now, our first bit of business is the attacks on Muggles. The Ministry has been very busy responding to a number of unusual incidents, not least of which is-"

"I beg your pardon, gentlemen," Moody said. "There's something I must attend to."

"Certainly, Alastor," Dumbledore said easily. Moody stumped out of the room, closing the door behind him.

"As I was saying, the Ministry is dealing with a number of high-profile incidents. First and foremost is the collapse of the Brockdale Bridge last week. I am convinced that it was no accident. We suspect Death Eaters weakened critical support beams, and the bridge simply could not withstand the added stresses."

"How many people were hurt?" said Diggle.

"Some one hundred killed outright. Many more were wounded."

"So many dead?"

"Many were trapped in their cars and drowned."

"Disgusting." Diggle shook his head sadly. "He's going after large groups of Muggles bunched together and doing something spectacular. I have more to report about the Westminster tube bombing. It was no ordinary act of terrorism."

"Are you certain?" said Dumbledore.

"Magical residue saturates the site of the crash. There can be no doubt," Diggle said. "I cast the spells three times. Magic was involved in tampering with the brakes of the train and supercharging the very train itself with suppressed kinetic energy. I'm frankly surprised that the explosion wasn't bigger."

"Do the Muggles suspect anything?"

"No, they think it was just your run of the mill bombing. Several of their politicians are trying to pin it on leftover elements of the Irish Republican Army, but they're disavowing any responsibility."

"If they don't think anything out of the ordinary, I see no reason to enlighten them," Remus said. "It's not fair to the Irish, but telling them the truth would be much worse. If the Prime Minister were to suspect that we couldn't control the situation, who knows what sort of trouble we'd have to deal with? It could potentially break down the Statute of Secrecy."

"Which is precisely what Voldemort is hoping for," Dumbledore said. "He knows it will distract our efforts. He's more than content to simply kill all of the Muggles once he attains power. He can spin it any number of ways, but he knows we're going to try and protect both their lives and their ignorance."

"There was another attack last week," Tonks said. "The British Culinary Museum. The electrical system went berserk, the boiler room exploded, and the fire supression failed to operate. Perhaps fifty people died in the rush."

"That's the same _modus operandi_ as what happened at the Bodleian Library," Remus said. "The place burned to the ground."

Dumbledore shook his head sadly. "Such a loss. Knowledge is too precious a thing."

"In that, Professor, we are in agreement."

"All right, Potter, Malfoy. Come out of there."

Harry jumped. He turned around with dread in the pit of his stomach. Professor Moody's stern voice alone made Harry's knees wibble. He looked at Draco, who seemed in no better a state.

They climbed up the narrow staircase and stepped out of the secret passage. The awful gaze Moody was directing at the two boys could have melted ice.

"Hello, Professor."

Harry's attempt to act casual was bold. In his mind, they were already in loads of trouble for spying on the meeting as it was. Might as well play it cool.

"Don't be cute, Potter," Moody growled. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Being vigilant."

Moody snorted rudely. "Trying to be funny, are you?"

Harry shook his head. "Not at all, sir. They won't tell us anything, so we decided to find out for ourselves. How are we supposed to be ready when we're kept ignorant?"

"Precisely the argument I made," Moody admitted. "For what it's worth, I thought you should have been told everything straight away, but there's other factors at play here."

Moody's words perked Harry right up. Maybe they wouldn't get in trouble after all.

"But that went only for you. Malfoy, you have no business getting involved. Your father specifically prohibited it."

Draco was shaking his head. "It's not keeping us any safer. We have a right to know."

"Rights," Moody sneered. "I may have to put up with old Lucius, but I don't trust him as far as I can throw him. Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater in my book."

"That's not fair, sir," Draco protested. "My father risked his life to save Harry. He betrayed the Dark Lord to his face. We're all dead if he catches us."

"You'd never turn back, eh? Once a turncoat, always a turncoat. Maybe that brother of yours would like to bow and scrape before Voldemort. Hasn't he already been seen wearing the mask and robes?"

Draco scowled. "That's a vicious lie. We've chosen a side."

"You've chosen your own side. You're out to save your own skins."

"The Dark Lord's rage knows no boundaries."

Moody closed his eyes for a moment. Harry didn't move, for he knew that the magical eye was most likely fixed firmly on them both.

"I'm going to require your oath, Malfoy. Your brother's too. If you won't give it, I'm going to tell your father and Dumbledore about this."

"Which oath?" Draco asked instantly. "An Unbreakable Vow?"

"No, if you broke that, you'd just drop dead. I have something a little more creative in mind."

"Well let's go find Elan."

Draco led them down the hall to his older brother's bedroom.

"Elan?" Draco said, knocking on the door. "Open up."

"What is it?"

"Someone wants a word with you."

The door opened, and Elan stood there, still as unkempt as before. Even with company in the house, he'd made no effort whatsoever to appear presentable.

"Moody." Elan's voice was cool.

"Malfoy." Moody's was just as frosty.

"He caught us spying on the meeting."

"I knew you'd get caught. I told you so. Why don't you ever listen to me?"

"He's agreed not to tell Father if we swear an oath."

"An Unbreakable Vow?"

"No, something far more painful."

"You're both going to swear by your magic," Moody said. "If you break this oath, you'll both be reduced to Squibs."

Elan choked. "That's horrible!"

"Yes, isn't it?" Moody said pleasantly. "There's nothing more awful to threaten a pureblood with. Magic is all that you have and all that you are. Without it, you're less than nothing. It's a promise I know you'll keep."

"Why am I being dragged into this?"

"Because you knew what they were about and said nothing. That's accessory before the fact."

Elan scowled. "Very well, Moody. What is this oath?"

Moody drew his wand. "Clasp your wand hands." He began to trace intricate patterns in the air.

"In the name of Merlin, greatest of our kind, I do bind you. Your magic is the security against falsehood. Oathbreakers will become no more than Squibs.

"Will you reject the Dark Lord called Voldemort and all of his empty promises?"

"I will," they said together.

"Will you keep secret anything you know or learn about the Order of the Phoenix?"

"I will."

"Will you accept the consequences for breaking this oath?"

"I will."

With the third vow, the clasped hands began to glow with a silvery light. Moody continued to trace patterns.

"Bah-weep-grana! Weep-ninni-bahm!"

The light flared, blinding Harry momentarily.

"There," Moody said, breathing heavily. "It is done. I'll trust you now, boys, because I trust in your own sense of self-preservation. If you attempt to break your oath, not only will you be unable to speak, but you'll instantly lose your magic. Moreover, I will know it."

"No worries about that, Professor," Draco said. "Now if there's nothing else, we've got a meeting to spy on."

Moody actually gave a small grin. It quickly vanished as he stumped away.

They got back into the secret passage as quickly as they could. Elan joined them now, and they returned just as Dumbledore was finishing up with the latest attacks.

"Going along with the attacks on Muggles are the strikes against Muggleborns and their families. I'm sad to say that some students will not be returning next year."

"Dead?" Sirius asked.

"Some. Others are so fearful that they are refusing to permit the children to come back. I've had several letters."

"A great loss," Shacklebolt remarked. "We need more students, not less."

"Yes, we must get more people to make a stand against the Dark Lord," Diggle said.

"Most of our support has come from the old families," Sirius said, "and we can thank Harry for that. He got to his friends early, and many have decided it's in their own best interests to support the Ministry."

"Still, the Ministry is not the Order," Shacklebolt said. "Have we had any more luck with those families who have not yet made up their minds?"

"Some," Dumbledore answered. "Many are fearful. As you remember, Molly Weasley's brothers died in the last war, so she has been very resistant about getting involved. I've approached her husband Arthur. He knows our cause is righteous, and I may be wearing him down."

"The more Ministry people we can get on our side, the better," Shacklebolt said. "The Dark Lord will have many spies trying to gather information. We'll need to counter that. Weasley isn't very important anymore, not that he ever really was, but I think he's got the sense to use this crisis as an opportunity."

"Kingsley, what can you tell us from the Auror Division?" Sirius asked. "The Dark Lord has had his own personal fortress all summer. Surely we're not going to let him keep it."

"We have finally finished working out the plan. The strike force is being assembled, and as soon as they are equipped, the Aurors will launch their attack against- against-"

Auror Shacklebolt's face grew blank, and he blinked several times. He was speechless for a few seconds. He tried to recover himself.

"Against- against the target. We expect full penetration and maximum body count. If we can kill the Dark Lord, we will. If not, we will capture him."

"Excuse me, Kingsley," Dumbledore interjected. " _Where_ are they striking?"

"I told you," Shacklebolt replied, a drop of sweat rolling down his face.

"No, you didn't."

"You know."

"No," Dumbledore said quietly. "I don't."

The room gasped.

Dumbledore looked Shacklebolt dead in the eye. "Do you remember, Kingsley?"

The pause lasted an eternity. One could have heard a feather drop.

"No."

"We have forgotten where his fortress is," Professor Snape pronounced, the first words he'd yet spoken in the meeting. "The Dark Lord has cast powerful magic."

"The Fidelius Charm." Dumbledore of course knew the answer. "It is the only spell that could affect all of us."

"He's made himself unassailable," Sirius said bitterly.

"The trouble with extremely helpful protective magicks is that the enemy can use them too," Dumbledore observed with a sigh. "I might have expected as much. He was always a quick study. He has seen how well the Fidelius works for us, and so he borrows the tactic."

"Well now what?" Sirius demanded.

"Severus will eventually be summoned and be told the Secret. He cannot reveal it to us, but we may be able to devise ways of utilizing the knowledge."

"What else? How can the Ministry do anything? How can we?"

"We will find a way, Sirius. This too shall pass."

"That's a right blow," Draco whispered. "How are they supposed to fight him if they can't find him?"

"They can't," Elan said shortly. "Merlin's blistering fireballs, why does the Dark Lord have to be smart?"

"Because he's an evil wizard. Being smart kind of goes with the territory."

"Forget him and his territory," Harry said firmly. "I'm going to get him no matter how many rabbits he pulls out of his hat."

"What?" Draco was clearly confused.

"Oh, that's what Muggles call magic. The vanishing cabinet? Sawing a lady in half?"

"What?"

"Have I really never talked about this?" Harry wondered.

"Maybe I wasn't paying attention."

"Well it's all illusion, isn't it? Misdirection. Trickery. Smoke and mirrors."

"Sounds like being a Slytherin."

"Don't be flip."

"I'm not! I really mean that."

"Anyway. Part of the usual magician costume is a top hat. He will take it off his head and show it to the crowd, completely empty. Then he'll put it on the table upside down and cover the opening with a handkerchief. He'll say some rot that's supposed to be magic words, wave a silly black wand with white tips over it, and tap the hat with it Voila! He whips off the handkerchief. He reaches into the hat and pulls out a white bunny rabbit."

"That's absurd. Why would you want a rabbit? What possible use could you have for a rabbit?"

"Stew?"

"Well, there is that."

"Why are we talking about rabbits?" Elan asked, sounding very confused.

"Harry brought it up."

"I was just saying that Fidelius is a neat trick."

"Do they need rabbits to cast the spell?"

"Elan, give it up."

They turned back to the meeting.

"Igor Karkaroff is dead," Snape said. "The Death Eaters caught up with him over Portugal. His head is currently mounted on a spike in the yard at the prison. The Dark Lord considers it a motivating display. Certainly no one wishes to join it."

Dumbledore sighed. He shook his head slightly, suddenly seeming very sad. "He also turned against Voldemort?"

"He was too cowardly to return. When he felt the summons, he ran, but there is no river he could cross, no mountain he could climb, that would put him beyond the Dark Lord's wrath."

"I assume he suffered greatly before he was allowed to die."

"He lasted only half a day."

"I never thought much of Karkaroff," Harry said, "but he didn't seem the Death Eater sort."

Draco snorted. "He was exactly the Death Eater sort."

They looked back to the meeting, but things seemed to be wrapping up. The boys hurried to get back to Elan's room where they were supposed to be keeping out of the way.

"Quick, get out the cards," Draco said.

When Sirius came to collect Harry, they were well into a game of Exploding Snap. Draco was winning, and Elan was nursing sore fingers.

"Ready to go home?" Sirius asked.

"But I am home," Draco replied cheekily.

"Draco, you would be a much more pleasant lad if you didn't insist on being such a smartass."

"It's part of my charm."

"Is that what you call it?"

"Good night, Harry. See you tomorrow."

"Cheers, mate. G'night, Elan."

"Later, Harry. Draco, put that card back!"

Leaving the brothers to squabble over the game, Harry and Sirius headed downstairs to the courtyard where Mrs. Malfoy and Remus were chatting casually.

"Shall we?" Remus asked.

"We shall. It's long past dinner time."

Harry was getting so used to Apparition that he barely felt any dizziness at all. He headed directly for the dining room, where Kreacher served a sumptuous meal for the three famished wizards. Mr. Malfoy had eaten earlier and was writing more correspondence for the Ministry war effort. When he had finished eating, Remus turned in early, leaving Harry and Sirius alone.

"Sirius?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"I spied on the Order meeting."

"I see. All of it?"

"Lots of it."

"So that's where Moody went. You saw everything?"

"Heard more than saw."

"So you know about Voldemort's fortress?"

"Yeah. I mean, it's awful, isn't it? What are we going to do? How can we hope to beat him when we don't even know where he is?"

"We'll figure something out."

"How?"

"We're going to be clever. We're going to out-think this."

"Good thing Snape's working on it," Harry said.

"Yes, Snape's always been a tricky one."

"So you're not mad I disobeyed you?"

Sirius sighed. "Harry, I want to. Believe me, I want very much to be upset with you, but I just can't bring myself to do it. You are your father's son. He snuck around and got into mischief, a great deal of it with me. You sneak around and get into mischief too. You do realize the deck has been stacked against me since day one? Lily, now, she would have her knickers in a knot. For her sake, I am going to punish you."

"Right, I'm grounded," Harry said seriously. "No leaving the house, no trips to Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade, and no Floo access."

"You're also going to bed at eight o'clock," Sirius added. "I know there's not a lot I can take away from you, but you are grounded."

"Sirius!"

"No, Harry, you didn't do as you were told, and now there's a consequence. Every night until you go back to school, bedtime is at eight."

Harry grumbled a bit, but deep down he knew he deserved to be punished a bit. He'd deliberately disobeyed, and now he had to pay the piper.

"Now then, it's become clear to me that you're going to get involved whether we want you to or not. So, we need you to work with us, and we need to do it without Dumbledore finding out."

"Then let's go talk to the one person who will keep my secret even though he doesn't want to."

Sirius' eyes clouded with confusion for only a moment. "Snape?"

"Professor Snape. He's my Head of House."

"You trust Snape that much?"

"I do. He's already keeping at least one huge secret for me."

"What's that?"

"The basilisk. He knows she's still alive, and he didn't tell Dumbledore."

"I didn't realize that. Well, what do you know? Maybe Snape is the right one to talk to."

* * *

The next day, Sirius brought Harry up to Hogwarts. They went immediately down to the dungeons. Harry led the way to Professor Snape's office and knocked firmly on the door.

"Enter."

Harry opened the door. "Hello, Professor."

"Mister Potter, what brings you to my door today?"

"Order business," Harry said bluntly.

"You are not in the Order."

"I want to be. I should be. I want to fight."

"He's in earnest, Snape. Go on, Harry."

"I say this to you as my Head of House," Harry said. "I want it to stay between us."

"So it shall."

"I spied on the Order meeting last night."

Snape was startled, something not often achieved. He raised an eyebrow and glanced at Sirius.

"I'll keep doing it, too. I'm going to face him again. He'll see to it, even if I don't. I've got to be ready."

"This is true. Many times this summer, he has proclaimed his desire to slay you."

"Will you help me, sir?"

Snape considered the question for a whole minute. "Yes, Harry, I will help you. In so much as I am able, I will help."

"We want to tell you as much as we can, Harry," Sirius said, "and there's something very important that you should be aware of. Tell him what's in the Department of Mysteries, Snape."

"You cannot be serious, Black."

"I'll save the joke. I mean it, Snape. Tell him."

"I thought you wanted to know about raids and information-gathering, who the Death Eaters are trying to corrupt, and so on."

"This is more important."

Snape folded his hands and gazed steadily at Harry, saying nothing. Harry once again felt the crazy feeling he sometimes got that Snape could read his mind.

"Have you ever wondered why the Dark Lord so desires to kill you, Mister Potter?"

"Yes!" Harry said fervently. "Nobody will answer the question."

"Sixteen years ago, there was a prophecy given predicting that the Dark Lord would be defeated. I overheard it as it was being uttered. This was before I saw the error of my past ways, and I told the Dark Lord every word I heard."

"Will you tell me?"

"There is no risk in telling you what the Dark Lord already knows. 'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches, born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies.'"

At last! Harry finally knew why he'd been a target, why his parents had been murdered. The mystery of his life, always tantilizingly out of reach, was now revealed. A prophecy. A vision that he would wield great power and destroy Voldemort.

Oddly, he should have been terrified but was not. He'd known for four years that he would one day seek out Voldemort and try to kill him. Now he knew he could succeed. That knowledge gave him a warm feeling of security.

"There is more to it, but that is all I heard. It is all I told the Dark Lord."

"How can we find the rest of it out?"

"The only one who knows is the person who heard it."

"Who is that?"

"Dumbledore."

"It always comes back to that old wizard," Harry rued bitterly.

"That's enough, Mister Potter," Snape said sternly. "Dumbledore has done more to advance the cause of Light than any other in the modern era. His wisdom is immeasurable."

"More like invisible," Harry muttered, but deeply under his breath.

"But we don't need to ask him," Sirius said. "Recorded prophecies are kept in the Department of Mysteries. This prophecy is there too."

"I want to go have a listen."

"Now that may be a bit more problematic. Only people named in prophecy are permitted to hear it."

"Why?" Harry demanded petulantly.

"A powerful curse lays over the Hall of Prophecy," Snape said. "To remove a prophecy engenders madness unless one is named in it."

"I'm not about to take you out in public. There are far too many unknown factors at the Ministry. I won't have us walk into a trap."

"But Sirius!"

"No." His godfather's voice was very firm. "It will wait. It's enough that you know you have the power to win. Voldemort was already trying to kill your parents. When he heard of this prophecy, he knew it could be his undoing. He came after you, and we all know what happened as a result. You are the only one with the power and ability to destroy him.

Sirius was right. Whatever else the prophecy might say, Harry knew enough. He would not fail in his quest.

There was little else to say, so Sirius and Harry left Snape to his brewing. Harry wanted to go see Theo since they were at school anyway. They found him in the library.

"Hey, Theo." Harry shivered as Theo's eyes pierced him. It truly was like the lights were on but nobody was home. "Good to see you out and about."

Theo turned back to the book in front of him. His unkempt brown hair, which was longer than it had ever been, fell forward and obscured his face.

"Did you catch the match between Portree and Wimbourne a couple of nights ago?" Quidditch would be a safe topic that might get Theo talking again.

Theo shook his head. He flipped the page.

"Portree won, six hundred to four hundred. The snitch just did not want to come out and play. All in all it lasted three hours. Sam O'Neill set a club scoring record."

Theo didn't seem to care.

And so it went with anything Harry mentioned. After failing to elicit interest in Quidditch, the on-going Lockhart scandal, the difficulty of the holiday assignments, and Wand Smasher's new album, Harry lapsed into silence himself. He pulled a copy of Hogwarts: A History off the shelf and began to read.

They remained for about an hour, reading together in silence, when Theo yawned and stood up. He did look at Harry with what seemed like a grateful expression, then he headed for the door.

Sensing that the visit had come to an end, Harry and Sirius Apparated back to Grimmauld Place, and Harry threw himself into his Apparition practice with renewed determination.

Over lunch, Sirius and Mr. Malfoy talked about the war effort. Harry tried to pay attention, but the Ministry budget really was dead boring. He couldn't care less how the Ministry found the Galleons needed to pay for this or that training program. Only when the talk turned to other matters did Harry perk up a bit.

"Now then, I have spoken to many fine citizens in the past months," Mr. Malfoy said, swirling his wine in the glass. "Excellent colour, this, cousin. My compliments." He sipped a tiny bit and smiled as it rolled over his tongue.

"Thank you, Lucius."

"Two people who have not returned my correspondence are Hector Goyle and Basil Crabbe. I am certain that they have given into their fear and committed themselves to the Dark Lord. Given that their boys share a dormitory with our boys, this is particularly bothersome. I am quite obviously reluctant to call on them in person or through the Floo."

"So what do you have in mind?" Sirius asked.

"If they will not respond to me, perhaps they will respond to Harry."

"Crabbe and Goyle promised me they wouldn't get caught up in some stupid plot."

"The Imperius Curse can make one break any promise."

"They were rubbish at resisting it," Harry remembered.

"It is a good sign that they do not want to be Death Eaters, but they might not have a choice about it. Their fathers could pressure and intimidate them into it. We need to persuade Basil and Hector that they should change their play."

"You think they'll respond if I write to them?"

"It is worth trying. See if you can set up a meeting so that you all can talk. They have heard the Dark Lord's terms. Maybe they will like ours better."

"You gents take care of the letters," Sirius said. "I'm going to call Director Bones and call in a favour."

"You have favours with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement?" Mr. Malfoy asked with slight astonishment.

"I have _unlimited_ favours with MLE. Funny what sort of terms you can wrangle when suing the government for millions of Galleons. Everyone wants to be my friend."

"You may claim to hate the game, cousin, but you play it extremely well."

"I am a Black," Sirius said with a twisted smile. "We learn the game in our cradles."

Harry fetched quill and ink. He was particularly fond of this quill set, a gift as it had been from Mr. and Mrs. Crabbe for Christmas his first year at Hogwarts. He dutifully wrote the phrases that Mr. Malfoy instructed him to write. Regal was sent on his way, with instructions not to wait for a reply.

It took a bit of back and forth, but eventually the meetings had been set. Hogsmeade. Hogs Head inn. Harry, Sirius, Mr. Crabbe and his son, and Mr. Goyle and his son.

Sirius' firecall to Director Bones had been very productive. The Aurors had been alerted to the meeting and were waiting nearby, to arrest the two Death Eaters if they could not be persuaded to turn against Voldemort.

Harry sat at a booth with Sirius. Remus was sitting nearby, hood drawn up to conceal his identity. Several other patrons, in reality Aurors in disguise, were in the bar at this time of the day, so they did not look completely obvious.

Goyle arrived first. He walked behind his father, not looking up as they approached the table.

"Mister Goyle," Harry said. He stood to greet the man politely. Though he could have sat and projected his superior status, common courtesy went a long way. Sitting was what Voldemort would do.

"Harry," Mr. Goyle said gruffly.

"Will you sit?"

They did.

"When my son told me you wanted to speak with me, I dismissed him. I wanted no part of anyone my master wants to kill. Instead of accepting my word, my son was very rude to me. I raised him right, so I knew there must be a reason. Here I am. What do you want to say to me?"

"I want you to reject your master," Harry said immediately. If he wanted to get down to business, so be it. "I want you to consider just how bad of an idea it is to support him."

"I thought as much," Mr. Goyle said. "It would be a worse idea to support you, Harry. The depths of the Dark Lord's cruelty and imagination know no boundaries. What can you offer me to risk such torments?"

"The promise of not tormenting you?" Harry replied cheekily. "Those who fight with me do so because they choose to, not because they are threatened."

"You are but a boy. You cannot know the Dark Lord's power."

"I _have_ the Dark Lord's power," Harry declared. "Shall I demonstrate? _Serpensortia!_ " The snake that emerged from Harry's wand was non-poisonous, but the markings were similar to those of a deadly species.

"Snakes!" Mr. Goyle yelped.

" _Come here to me_ ," Harry commanded the snake. He held out his hand. The snake slithered towards him and wrapped itself around his hand and arm. " _Rest for now_."

All of the blood had drained from Mr. Goyle's face. He was the colour of raw bread dough.

"P-p-parseltongue!"

"I speak it. Snakes are mine to command. All snakes. Even the king of snakes would obey me."

Harry let him digest that tidbit for a few seconds.

"Voldemort's powers are not unique. He gained them somehow. He just happens to have a lot of them, but he can be fought. He can be beaten. He can be defeated. Help me to do it."

Mr. Goyle continued to stare at the snake. He was not a man of towering intellectual capacity, and Harry's little display seemed to have quite overwhelmed him. His mouth worked silently.

"He is not unbeatable. The more people who join the fight, the sooner his power will crumble and he will fall. Don't you want to be on the right side when that happens?"

Mr. Goyle wasn't responding.

"Think about your family," Harry implored. "Don't you want them to be able to live without fear? To be able to raise their heads without incurring the wrath of a madman? Damn it, man, where's your pride?"

Mr. Goyle's head snapped up. Something like fire burned in his tiny eyes.

"If you choose him, all you are is a lacky. You'll bow and scrape and prostrate yourself before him. If you're lucky you'll avoid being tortured. Sounds like loads of fun to me." Harry couldn't help his sarcasm. "If you choose me, once he's undone and destroyed, you can go do whatever you want."

"But who can stand against him?"

"Dumbledore, for one," Harry said, knowing that Goyle would know it was true, "and he hasn't had much luck with me either."

Harry stared Goyle, Sr. down. Every ounce of his willpower was bent on convincing the man to make the right choice. He barely blinked, and only when Goyle looked away. Time and again, his eyes came back to Harry's. Sweat beaded on his brow.

"All right," Goyle burst out. "All right." He lowered his face into his hands. "Merlin preserve us, I don't want to live like that."

"That's good," Harry said, relief flooding through him. "Then you'll join us?"

"Yes."

Sirius stood up and guided Mr. Goyle out the back door to where the Aurors waited. They took him away to headquarters to debrief him. Sirius returned to the table.

"Good show."

"I'm glad he saw sense."

"I hope Crabbe's dad does the same."

They had set the second meeting an hour after the first. Harry and Sirius ordered lunch. The last dishes were just being cleared away when Mr. Crabbe arrived. He was alone.

Harry stood to greet him.

Crabbe crossed his arms over his chest. "Well, I'm here. Say your piece."

"Let's sit."

"I don't intend to stay long."

This wasn't going well.

"I'm here to offer you a way out. You don't have to serve Voldemort anymore."

Crabbe flinched. "Don't say his name. He can hear when you do. He is all-powerful. I dare not oppose him."

"He's not all-powerful."

"He is."

"His powers are not unique," Harry said, feeling things starting to slip away. "Let me show you. _Serpensortia!_ "

The same sort of snake emerged from his wand and slithered across the table. Crabbe's eyes widened, but to his credit, he didn't flinch away.

" _Come to me_ ," Harry hissed. The snake coiled around his forearm.

"Yes, Vincent told me you could speak to snakes. That is very impressive, but it is insignificant next to the power of the Dark Lord."

"He has failed to kill me several times now."

"Luck."

"Or incompetence." Harry knew he was being a bit cheeky with that comment, but he couldn't help himself. "He fears me, you know. He knows I can beat him. Why else would he have tried to kill me so many times? What did I ever do to him?"

Crabbe didn't answer.

"I have the power to fight him. I can destroy him. You should be with me when it happens."

"You won't be destroying anybody, Potter."

Crabbe's right arm came up, wand in his hand, somehow drawn on the sly.

" _Avada-_ "

Sirius sent the table flying without a single magic word, smashing the wood into Crabbe again and again. Swears and oaths were shouted, and the undercover Aurors at the bar cast their own spells. Within moments, Crabbe was neatly trussed like a Christmas turkey with his wand rolling slightly on the floor beside him.

Sirius put his own wand away and knelt down to peer in Crabbe's face.

"That was really stupid, Crabbe. So tremendously, colossally stupid, it defies description. You just earned yourself a life sentence in wizard prison, my friend."

"There is no prison!" Crabbe snarled.

"So I'm powerfully curious to see just what they're going to do to you, Death Eater," Sirius said pleasantly. "Take him away!"

Harry still sat at the booth, frozen with shock.

"Crabbe's dad just tried to kill me."

"Bloody foolish, too," Sirius said, "but let's not waste time. Take my hand."

They Apparated back to Grimmauld Place.

"I'm getting better at this. Having to drag you along everywhere is certainly sharpening my skills."

"I'm getting there, Sirius, I'm getting there. I can go from one room to another now."

"That's excellent, and you're almost there. Now you just need to be able to go long distances. Try going from floor to floor. In fact, now's a perfect time for a lesson."

"I think I'm too distracted to try," Harry said. "I'd Splinch myself. Crabbe's dad tried to kill me."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Harry shook his head. "No, I just need to think about it for awhile. Maybe later."

"I'm here for you, Harry. Whenever you need me."

"Thanks, Sirius."

"But if you're up for it, this does seem like a good opportunity to show you all about Locking Hexes."

Harry nodded. He paid close attention as Sirius showed him how to cast a containment field, cast the spells, harmonize the thing and so on. Nonetheless, over and over in his mind, Basil Crabbe's wand flashed out and the terrible words tumbled from his lips. In Harry's imagination, horrible scenarios played out.

" _Avada Kedavra!_ " The words of the curse were completed, and green light flared at the tip of his wand. Sirius, having seen the wand, lunged forward, knocking Harry aside, but the green light struck him in the chest. He stopped, standing still, a sort of confused question in his face. Then he fell over forward. He lay on the ground and didn't move.

Harry interrupted Sirius' lesson with a sudden hug. He wrapped his arms tight around his godfather and held on. Sirius was a bit surprised by the show of affection, but he squeezed Harry right back.

"It's all right, Harry."

"It could have gone so bad."

"But it didn't. We all went home safely."

"What if he'd gotten that spell off?"

"No chance. It takes too long to say. I already had my wand out just in case, and when he went for his, I moved the table. It would have taken the first curse, and then I would have had my wand in his eye. Trust me, Harry, we've planned many clandestine meetings. We've learned a lot from things that went bad."

"I know." Harry knew Sirius and Remus knew what they were doing. Mr. Malfoy also had a hand in the plan, so it was that much stronger. It still rankled at him. "I'm just worried about you."

"I know, but we do everything we can to minimize the risk. We plan, and we prepare."

Harry felt somewhat better. He tightened his hug for a few moments and then relaxed.

"Thanks, Sirius. Now about this Locking Hex."


	8. Educational Decree Number Twenty-Two

Harry went back to school today.

He woke early and bathed quickly. He dressed neatly, glad he'd laid out his clothes last night. New robes fit him perfectly, and the silver prefect's badge gleamed on his chest. His hair was neatly cut but messily styled. He ran his fingers through it a few times, having packed his comb neatly at the bottom of his trunk.

"Oh, very handsome!" the mirror gushed. He had laughed when he'd first opened Elan's birthday present, but to his surprise the Reflective Friend (TM) was anything but a flatterer. It offered the occasionally harsh criticism of one's appearance but also expert techniques and spells for improvements.

"Thanks, Shoshi," Harry said, and he headed down to breakfast.

Sirius and Mr. Malfoy were sitting at the dining room table drinking tea and eating pastries.

"Harry, good morning." Sirius paused. "I wish your parents could see you now."

Harry nodded. He didn't trust himself to answer that, but he wished the same thing.

"I'm excited," he said instead. "Maybe a little worried. I want to do it well, after all. Don't want to be a swot of it, right?"

"Certainly not."

Remus came into the dining room and sat down. He buttered himself a roll and began to eat. When he'd gotten at least a bit of food in him, he said, "Good morning, everyone. Today's the big day, eh, Harry?"

"It is. I hope I'm as good to the firsties as the prefects were to me."

"You're going to be fine," Remus replied confidently. "I know Sirius has been teasing you a lot about enforcing the rules, but I will one final time implore you to remember your responsibilities. Do _try_ to not let the fun get out of hand."

"I will, Remus."

Harry knew it would be impossible to keep all of his friends from abiding by all school rules all of the time in the strictest fashion. He wasn't quite sure where his limits were going to be. Truth be told, he was going to play the whole thing by ear and judge any situation on its own merits. He'd been on the receiving end of summary judgment several times, notably by Professor McGonagall, the Deputy Headmistress and Head of Gryffindor House. It was no fun to not have a chance to explain.

"I wonder who the other prefects are going to be."

"Who's the other from Slytherin again?" Remus asked.

"Pansy."

"Ah, yes. She hasn't heard who the others will be?"

"Not that she's said, anyway. She might be holding it for gossip on the train."

"Who's the Head Boy and Girl?"

"Cedric Diggory, from Hufflepuff, and Alicia Spinnet, from Gryffindor."

A few days beforehand, Harry had gotten a thick envelope by owl from the pair informing him of their new positions, welcoming him to the prefects council, and detailing how they would all work together for the betterment of the school. He'd read it eagerly, feeling more excited about his new responsibilities when learning that he might be called on to teach a lesson to younger students if a professor was ill or called away.

As a sixth year, Diggory'd been chosen as the Triwizard Champion from Hogwarts. He'd found his way to the centre of the maze in roughly the same amount of time as Harry. He was the best; surely nobody would be surprised he'd been selected as Head Boy.

Spinnet was one of Gryffindor's Chasers, and she might even be the team captain this year. Wood had left school after Harry's third year, and with no Quidditch because of the Triwizard Tournament, there had been no need to replace him. Would Spinnet be able to handle being captain and Head Girl in addition to the N.E.W.T.s?

It was going to be an interesting experience being a prefect, no doubts about it. He wasn't all that close with the other Slytherin prefects. Now they'd be having council and such, looking out for the interests of the house. It was a little daunting, but Harry knew the others would help him cope.

"Are you all packed?" Sirius asked.

"Just about. Only a few last minutes. All the important stuff is in there."

"All your homework done?"

"Yes, Sirius," Harry said, trying to avoid smiling. "I've been done for forever."

"Just checking."

After breakfast, Harry went back up to his room. He had grown to like his room very much. It had been his for over a year now, and he had arranged things to his liking. He had decorated as he saw fit. 

Posters of his favourite Quidditch team, the Montrose Magpies, re-enacted the Scottish Cup final of 1992, when O'Ryan had caught the snitch whilst interfering with a shot on her team's hoops and managing to make it look like an accident. The lack of that goal had made the final score 300 to 290 with the victory going to Montrose. 

Posters for some of his favourite bands silently jammed out. Wand Smasher was prevalent, with Edgar, Agatha, Emma, Stan, and Kevin all going absolutely wild. It was a scene from Harry's first show, when they'd finished their last song of the night and vanished off the stage in a tidal wave of flame.

It was a far cry from the empty room that he'd been allowed to have at Number Four once the Hogwarts letters began arriving. It was even further from the cupboard under the stairs where he'd slept for the ten years before that. Every time Harry looked around his room now, he thanked his lucky stars, even though Professor Sinistra had debunked the concept for them back in first year.

He had always been excited on the morning of 1 September. It had meant escaping from the Dursleys and going back to Hogwarts where he'd met his real friends. Now that he'd come to live with his godfather, going off to school was touched with sadness and regret for the first time. 

Last year had been somewhat easier to deal with than this year was. They'd only had the summer together before Harry had to board the Hogwarts Express and head back north. Then the damned tournament had happened, and Sirius had moved into a cramped room at the Hogs Head inn in order to be near Harry during his trial. This past summer, they'd been cooped up together every day, and they'd run in the night as Animagi. By Merlin, Harry was going to miss Sirius something awful.

Homesickness was entirely new to Harry, and he found he didn't care for it very much. While living at Number Four, he'd always wished for a long-lost relative to come and take him away. It had finally happened, and now Harry didn't want to leave his home. His eyes seemed to want to linger everywhere, soaking in every detail, preparing himself for the months when he would have only his memories.

Harry gathered his toothbrush and bath kit and put them in his trunk. Shoshi the Reflective Friend (TM) was carefully packed away in her box and securely stowed. He took one last look around.

"Okay, then," he said aloud.

The Shrinking Charm was one of the most useful bits of magic Sirius had ever shown him. With a quick wave of his wand, his school trunk was in an inner pocket of his robes. All he needed otherwise was his helmet and a moneypouch.

He sheathed his wand and picked up his helmet, running his fingers over the stylized flames. He hadn't been able to go out on the motorbike hardly at all this summer. He'd been so busy he hadn't noticed, but now he missed what could have, should have been.

He took the stairs two at a time down to the ground floor. Remus met him at the bottom, a light brown cloak wrapped around his shoulders. He looked ready to be going out.

"Good luck on the sales, Remus."

"Thank you, Harry. It's supposed to be nice out. Have a safe journey. I'll see you on the Hogsmeade weekend."

"Bye."

Mr. Malfoy, who had been very quiet during breakfast, was still in the dining room, nursing a cup of tea. Harry poked his head in.

"We're going now, Mister Malfoy. Good-bye."

"It's so very unfair, isn't it?" Mr. Malfoy said, not looking up. "I can't even go to the station to bid my son good-bye. I will no longer even be able to visit Hogwarts without drawing undue danger upon the students."

"There'll be holidays," Harry said, trying to stay positive. "Christmas, Easter. Maybe Sirius can bring Draco back during a Hogsmeade weekend."

"Perhaps."

There was an uncomfortable silence for several moments.

"I have to go."

"Please give Draco my greetings and affections. I am sorry to not be there in person."

"I will."

Harry left Draco's father sitting at the dining room table, holding his cup of tea, which he hadn't touched.

Sirius had the motorbike revved up and ready to go. Harry strapped his helmet on and ran down the steps. He threw his leg over the seat and settled into place behind Sirius. With a roar of the engine, they sped out into the streets of London. The ride to King's Cross station was very short by the motorbike, and Harry climbed off regretfully after Sirius brought the bike to a complete and total stop. After Harry had locked his helmet to the seat, Sirius magic-locked the motorbike to prevent ambitious Muggle hijackers, and they walked into the station.

Finding the space between Platforms Nine and Ten, they crossed over to Nine and Three-Quarters. On the platform, Harry reversed the Shrinking Charm on his luggage. They headed for the train.

"You've gotten quite good with that."

"I've had practice."

"Practice makes perfect."

"Actually not true," Harry said. "Practice makes permanent. You do something over and over again and you'll do it the same way every time, but only _perfect_ practice will make perfect permanent. Then you'll be perfect every time."

"Speaking of perfect every time, here comes someone who thinks he is."

"Perfect? Did someone say my name? Hello, Harry. Hello, Sirius."

"Hi, Draco."

"Hello, Draco. Where's your mother?"

"There was an unexpected situation that needed her attention at home."

"She left you?"

"No, not really."

"Well why are you just walking around where anyone can see you?"

Draco looked ready to burst. "Just let it go, please, Sirius."

"I can't believe she's so irresponsible."

"She's not! Look." Draco sighed. He leaned in close. "Sheputahouseelfonme."

"What?"

"She put a house elf on me. Dobby's hiding in my pocket. At the first sign of trouble, he's to leap to my defence."

Draco sounded utterly disgusted at having a house elf protecting him.

"I've found a compartment. Let's go."

Harry and Sirius embraced almost fiercely.

"Remember your mirror. I'm a moment away if you need me."

"Things should be back to normal this year."

"Define 'normal'."

Harry snickered. "You win. You take care. Whatever missions you go on, make sure you come back from them."

"My most important mission is to raise you, Harry. I'll never abandon it."

Harry felt himself choke up. He hugged Sirius again.

Draco led the way on to the train and to the compartment he had claimed for the now fifth year Slytherins. Harry stacked his trunk with Draco's on the overhead rack.

"Anyone else around yet?"

"Theo is already at Hogwarts," Draco said. "Crabbe and Goyle are three cars down. It was the only other empty place we could find."

Pansy and Daphne were the next to arrive. They both wore their school robes over casual clothing. Pansy wore a nice black jumper and a grey skirt. Her black hair was loose and held back from her face with a headband. Daphne had on a pair of dark blue slacks that seemed a bit tight, particularly along the legs. Her beige jumper could not hide the figure Harry had seen in the swimming pool. The two girls were giggling uncontrollably.

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"We just overheard Angelina Johnson tell Katie Bell that she went all the way with Fred Weasley."

Harry felt his face get hot. "That's funny," he said, chuckling weakly. "Good for them."

"What, on the train?" Draco asked cheekily.

"No, over the holiday," Daphne said, still giggling. "They're seventh-years, and they've got their Apparition licenses since last spring. Apparently they wrote a few letters, set up a secret rendezvous, and had a short evening of torrid passion before they had to take a break, and-"

"Oh my!" Draco said, raising his eyebrows. "Well, I know _I'll_ never sleep well again. Thanks so much, Daphne-love."

"Pain shared is pain lessened."

"So you say every time."

"You never seem to remember."

The whistle blew loudly as the steam engine revved up. The train began to chug slowly forward, gradually picking up speed. Parents and guardians waved from the platform that was fast being left behind. Teenage faces were pressed to the glass windows, looking for one last glimpse. The train kept moving, and the station quickly faded from sight.

Pansy stood up.

"Harry, we need to go to the prefect's meeting."

"Meetings? Already?" Daphne asked, wrinkling her nose.

"Yes. Diggory wants to have some organization bit before we even get there. Probably going to be the same rubbish they sent in that packet."

"You didn't read it?" Harry asked.

"No, did you?"

"Yes."

Pansy shook her head.

"Waste of time, Harry. We've seen our prefects in action for the past four years. I know what they do and how they do it. If I have any questions, I can ask, right?"

"You're going to be lots of fun," Harry observed.

"Now, don't you kids get up to anything while the prefects are gone," Pansy cautioned Draco and Daphne, whom they were leaving alone.

"What, snog this pillock?" Daphne said, giving Draco a playful shove. "Not unless there's money for charity involved. One charity deserves another, don't you think?"

"Don't be surprised if Daphne's not here when you come back," Draco said. "She's getting herself in lots of trouble already, and will doubtless do even moreso once you're gone."

"Have fun," Harry said, feeling sorry for Draco.

Coming up the corridor were Miles Bletchley and Heather Chandler, the seventh-year prefects, followed by David Palce and Samantha Warrington who represented sixth-year.

"Good, you're on the way. We were just coming to find you," Heather said.

"How are we all going to fit in one compartment?" Pansy asked.

"There are spells to expand it," Heather replied. "Good thing, too, otherwise we'd have to wait until tomorrow at the soonest to have our first meeting."

"Hang back after," Bletchley said. "We'll have one of our own."

The prefects compartment was at the very front of the train. It looked no bigger than a normal car from the outside, but inside it was very spacious. Harry had seen these spells once before, when Elan Malfoy had cast them in order that all the Slytherins could ride together with him.

The prefects council was comprised of two members, one male and one female, of each form from each house. There were twenty-four members in total. Harry knew from hearing older students talk that meetings could be lively affairs unless the Head Boy and Head Girl kept a firm control of things.

This year's Head Boy stood up as the last of the Slytherins entered the room.

"Good. Close the door, please, and let's begin. Welcome back to Hogwarts, everyone. I'm glad to find you all in such good health. For our new members who may not know me by sight, I am Cedric Diggory, and I am the Head Boy. The Head Girl here is Alicia Spinnet, and she would like to say a few words of welcome as well. Alicia?"

"Thank you, Cedric. Hi, everyone! Glad to be back and all that. There's a lot going on this year, so let's get down to it. First things first, the introductions."

Harry was pleased to see that Ron Weasley was not present. That meant Harry could dock him points and give him detention. He couldn't wait for the first confrontation. 

Instead of the Weasel, Gryffindor was represented by Neville Longbottom, of all people. He looked very nervous sitting amongst all the rest of the prefects, as though he felt he didn't really belong.

In all of his excitement over being a prefect, Harry had forgotten that Padma was likely to be a prefect as well. When she announced herself, Harry felt his stomach lurch a bit. Hopefully they would manage to be discrete about their break-up and not have an ugly scene here in the prefect's council.

The last person he knew was Hannah Abbott. The blonde Hufflepuff had gotten even prettier over the summer, and she'd been quite fetching to start with. He smiled at her as she acknowledged the roll. She glanced over at him, and her eyes widened. She smiled back. Harry felt a surge of something he couldn't quite define. It was that feeling he'd come to associate with pretty girls.

Some names he recognized from Quidditch, like Vicky Frobisher, Airen Summerby and Roger Davies. Harry tried to keep all the others straight. Really, he tried, but he couldn't tell Connie Rookwood from Stephanie Atkinson or Janet Newman.

When it was his turn, he rotely said, "Harry Potter."

"Pansy Parkinson," she said immediately, not giving anyone a chance to react to Harry's name.

"Miles Bletchley." The roll call went on.

Harry looked over at Pansy and smiled. She was smooth. She fluttered her eyelashes at him.

The roll call concluded. 

"Now then, let's go over the duties of your office. You all should have received a letter from Alicia and I over the summer, yes? How many of you actually read it?"

All of the Ravenclaws and Gryffindors, but only some of the Hufflepuffs, raised their hands. Harry was the sole Slytherin.

Diggory sighed. "I had hoped to find myself mistaken. Okay, congratulations. Now we have to waste time on this, and the meeting will go even longer."

"In that case, can we hold it to the end, and we who read it can leave early?" asked Goldstein, a fifth year from Ravenclaw.

"No," Diggory said. "This is important stuff, and I want to say it before everyone goes to sleep. I remember last year's meetings. There will be order in this chamber. Alicia and I will co-chair this assembly with equal authority. We will recognize individuals to speak and may revoke that recognition at will."

Spinnet continued. "Any motion put before us must be seconded. There must be discussion on all motions. Any member may seek recognition and call for a vote at any time. Such a motion must be seconded. Cedric and I will vote as representatives of our respective houses on any motions before the council. In the event of a tie, Cedric and I will issue a tie-breaking vote as Head Boy and Girl. In the event that we cannot make agreement, the issue is regarded as too divisive and fails."

Diggory switched topics. "Our mandate is to provide leadership to the students and assistance to the staff. You may be called upon to assist a teacher by taking over a lesson in a pinch. You are responsible for the conduct of other students when a teacher is not present. You are authorized to award or take house points and assign detentions. You are also permitted to use magic to enforce the rules if you deem such action necessary. 

"Are there any questions so far?"

There were none.

"Good. This is going to be a good year," Spinnet declared. "We're going to see Quidditch again, and I know we're all happy about that."

"Hear, hear!" said those prefects who were also on the house teams.

"Once the Welcoming feast is over, it's the job of prefects to escort firsties to the common room. Make sure you count them during the Sorting and don't lose track of any. 

"The password to the prefect's bathroom is 'dragon tamer'. For the fifth years who may not know, it's located on the fifth floor. Find the statue of Boris the Bewildered and try the fourth door to the left. Yes, there is only one entrance, but the magic of Hogwarts prevents boys and girls from co-mingling. Even if a boy and a girl try to walk in at the same time, they'll wind up in different rooms. Inconvenient? Yes, certainly, but not unreasonable."

Harry snickered at that, as did most of the rest of the prefects.

Diggory cleared his throat to restore order. "Your Heads of House will have the class schedules. Make sure all the first year students get them. Remember that Hogwarts is a big place, can be kinda scary, and that these firsties might get lost. Help them out wherever you can.

"Last thing, and then you can go. The world is a pretty scary place right now with the war back on. Remember that your fellow students may be affected by events that take place outside the castle walls. Offer to listen if they want to talk. We've got to help each other find a way through this."

"We're going to have our next meeting in ten days," Spinnet said. "That's all we've got to say. Anyone have anything they want to say?"

Nobody did.

"Motion to adjourn," Spinnet said.

"Second," Diggory said. "All in favor?"

Everyone stood up and began to move for the door of the compartment without bothering for the vote to be tallied.

"Hi, Harry," Hannah said, smiling at him as she walked out of the compartment.

"Hi, Hannah," he replied. "Good hols?"

"Nothing too different than last summer, really. Spent most of my time out by the pool."

It showed. Her blonde hair was very sun-bleached, contrasting sharply against her dark tan.

"Wish I could have come over for a dip. I couldn't leave the house, what with Voldemort being back and all."

Hannah shivered as he said the forbidden name. "I would have liked to have had you over."

"Oi, Potter, Parkinson," said Bletchley. "Wait up a minute."

"Excuse me, Hannah," Harry said, silently wishing Bletchley had a better sense of timing.

"Of course, Harry. See you later."

Heather Chandler waved her wand, and a door shimmered into existence. She opened it, and all the Slytherin prefects stepped into an empty compartment.

"Welcome to an august company," Heather said. "You are Slytherin prefects. Slytherins are the best. Our prefects are the best of the best. You are here not just because of marks, or sport, or any other single factor, but because you are fine examples of what it means to be Slytherin. Professor Snape chose you both. Do not disappoint him or us. If you get caught breaking rules, do your utmost to spin it around and make it look like you are catching rule-breakers. My advice is not to get caught. Do nothing to dishonour the silver badges you wear."

"The password to the common room is 'unity'," Bletchley said. "We must remember our unity as a house and not let outside forces tear us apart. War has come. We will think and move as one. We are Slytherin, and our first duty is to each other. I will not tolerate any dissention this year. Too much is at stake. If we step wrong, we will be destroyed, and I will not see it happen. We will protect our own. We will not let any harm come to our children in our great house.

"Blood has already been spilled. This information is strictly confidential, but Professor Snape thought we needed to know. Theo Nott poisoned his father rather than serve the Dark Lord."

Pansy gasped and looked to Harry. He nodded gravely. Her eyes narrowed sharply in thought.

"Who knows what's going on with most of our friends and the littler ones? House policy is that we look out for each other, and you are the instruments of that policy. Things have the great potential to get out of hand very quickly this year. We must keep the war from tearing the house apart."

Miles pointed at Harry. "This fellow here has been targeted by the Dark Lord. Like any good Slytherin, I expect him to fight back. I expect most of his friends will join him, but there are others in this house he isn't close to."

"I can count on one hand the number of times I've seen you speak with Thomas and Michael," David Palce said.

"Ronnie exchanges gossip with me, but I never speak to Chabré or duMonde," Pansy said.

"Exactly," Miles said. "Same for Courtney and Bole's sister. Some people have absolutely no motivation to keep from setting a trap for Harry other than the ties of the house. Me, I've played Quidditch with Harry for the last four years-"

"There wasn't Quidditch last year," Samantha interjected.

"Don't remind me! Harry's my teammate, and that's enough for me. We defended him from the Heir of Slytherin garbage, and we defended him during the Triwizard Tournament. He earned my trust, and now's no reason to break it. As I am senior to anyone else in the house except my lovely, beautiful, exquisite, lady Heather who is exactly as magnificent as myself, I am setting policy. We will highly encourage taking up wands against the Dark Lord. Absent that, support for the war effort is mandatory. Now next year when I am gone, Palce could lose his mind and convince Sam that she needs to seduce Harry and capture him instead. I can't control that, but while I am here, the Dark Lord is the enemy. Is that clear?"

Sam Warrington blushed horribly, glancing over at Harry and turning even redder when she met his eyes.

Bletchley let them go at that point. He and Heather stayed behind in the compartment, and when Harry glanced back to see if they were following, the door had disappeared again.

Palce and Warrington were sizing Harry up.

"So you're going to fight him?" Palce said.

"That's right. I think I've got a fair shot of it."

"You seem pretty confident."

"You could say that. He must have been pretty threatened to have gone after me as a baby. Why didn't he abduct me, raise me as his own? Because he knows I'm the one who can destroy him."

"Think about it," Pansy urged. "Harry's a threat to You-Know-Who. At least he thinks so. Seeing as how he's a great towering Dark Lord, I think we can acccept his opinion on the matter."

"That's not logic I'm all-together comfortable accepting, if you don't mind my saying so," Sam said, "because it involves trusting a Dark Lord, and that's just dumb."

"I'll go along with this for now," Palce said. "I'm fairly sure a few of my more distant cousins will be interested in signing up with the Death Eaters, but my parents don't quite agree with their tactics. Great believers in democracy, my folks. 'If You-Know-Who really does believe his policies are the best for the Empire, then let him campaign on them,' my dad said."

"He does realize the Empire hasn't existed in decades."

"Try and tell him that, and don't even get him started on how the Wizarding Empire could have saved it all if only they'd had the guts to repeal the Statute of Secrecy."

"What about you, Palce? What do you believe?"

"I believe in making my own decisions, and I don't want to see my family get hurt. So yeah, I guess that means I'll fight."

"There is no better reason to fight than to protect the people we love," Harry said softly. "If that is your cause, then it is just. That's exactly what this is about: family. To make the world safe for our families, we must oppose his tyranny."

"We'll tell the others," Sam promised. "See you at the feast."

"Well done," Pansy said to Harry. "Two more at least, and probably more."

"It's not these lot here at school I'm worried about," Harry said. "It's all the brothers, sisters, and cousins who aren't at Hogwarts."

"Don't be so cheerful. So what's this about Theo?"

"Yeah, keep it quiet. We found out this summer. Theo was supposed to set a trap for me. He refused, and his dad used Cruciatus on him."

"That's disgusting!" she gasped. "Mister Nott tortured his own blood?"

"Yeah. Well, Theo didn't stand for it and poisoned him."

She shook her head sadly. "I don't doubt you, but it's so incredible. Mister Nott was always so nice to me. He used to tutor us. He taught us about magical theory, about history, our sums, and so much more. He was always very patient with me. He was so smart."

"Well he was dumb enough to pick Voldemort's side."

Pansy considered that for a moment, her eyes haunted. "I wonder if many other Slytherins will have to make that same choice?"

Harry wondered the same, and the answers were often troubling.

"This is why you and Draco wanted me to lay off him, isn't it?"

"Yeah. Poor fellow's got enough to cope with as it is, wouldn't you say?"

"It's a good reason. You know, I think Theo's not all that bad. When he's keeping a civil tongue in his head, he can be quite tolerable."

Draco and Daphne were waiting in the compartment. They were seated on opposite sides. Daphne had a book open, but she didn't appear to be reading it.

"You just missed your favourite person," Daphne said.

"The Weasel?"

"The same."

"What did he want?"

"Oh, the usual rot," Draco said with some heat. "Glad that Quidditch will be back on this year. He can't wait to see the Champion fly again."

"Again with the Champion bit."

"He's technically correct. You are the Champion. You're the Champion of Champions."

"That just makes it worse. I know he doesn't mean it. He's using it like an insult."

"Well, we'll figure out a way to fix him good this year. I'll start working on a plan."

"Oh goodie!" Daphne said. "A plan! I like plans."

"Ginny was saying that she's had enough of him too. I think she'd like to help."

"She's a devious one," Pansy said. "She _did_ know exactly what she was doing with that dress at the Yule Ball."

"Half a dress," Daphne quipped.

"Oh, yes," Pansy agreed, "but what a half it was, and she pulled it off. I was as surprised as anyone else."

"Her brothers certainly did turn funny colours that night," Harry remembered. "I don't think her taunting them helped."

"Most assuredly not."

"So how do we get them?" said Daphne. "Are you going to ask Ginny out, Harry? That would really make his head explode."

Ask out Ginny? She was very nice, and certainly spunky enough for his tastes. Harry recalled her image. She had red hair that was rather long and curly. Her eyes were brown and often laughing. Yeah, she was pretty. He thought about the dress she'd worn to the Yule Ball and gulped. Was it warm in here?

"It probably would," he said. Ron Weasley hated Harry, and if her mere association with Slytherins was enough to drive him insane, the possibilities if she started dating one of them were endless. He'd nearly flipped his top when she'd gone to the Yule Ball with Crabbe.

"You sound very enthusiastic," Daphne said slyly.

"I don't know if I want to start dating again."

"It's been two months, Harry," Pansy said.

"Yeah, but we weren't at school."

"You're going to be quite the catch this year. Triwizard winner; prefect; Captain-in-Training. They'll be throwing themselves at you. Look at how Abbott was acting just now."

"Hannah Abbott was flirting with Harry?" Daphne said. "Good on her for getting prefect."

Pansy filled her in about the exchange of glances as the meeting broke up. Daphne giggled at Harry's expense throughout the tale. He tried to ignore them, but with every giggle or mirthful snort, Harry's blush grew brighter and deeper.

"Daphne!" he finally protested, when he could take it no more.

"But it's so cute," she said defensively.

"I think it could work," Pansy speculated, "but before we put together a plan in that regard, would it interfere with your own designs?"

"Well, Charles hasn't written me very much this summer, so I've decided to tell him to forget any ideas of going out this year. I suppose Harry would make a worthy substitute."

Now Harry's ears felt like they were on fire.

"I see. Talk to him later about that. I don't think he's capable of speech just now."

Mercifully, the lady with the candy trolley came by just then. Harry bought a dozen Chocolate Frogs, three boxes of Every Flavour Beans, two Sugar Quills, and a bottle of pumpkin juice.

Harry pulled out a deck of exploding cards to distract Daphne, as she generally stopped laughing when she started swearing.

"So is there anything going on that hasn't been reported in the Prophet?" Pansy asked. "I've been starved for real news."

"Nah, not a thing," Draco said. "Father told me to worry about classes. 'Classes lead to OWLs, OWLs lead to NEWTs, and NEWTs lead to success in life.' It's been bloody awful with only homework and studying to do."

"Same here," Harry said. "I missed you guys all summer. Has anyone seen Tracy?"

"Not yet."

Conversation stayed pretty neutral as they played. Mindful of their promise to Professor Moody, neither Harry nor Draco discussed any Order business. It wasn't easy to fake irritation and frustration; they'd had plenty of it. 

"Any idea who's going to be teaching Defence?" Harry asked. It was his favourite subject.

"Maybe Professor Moody will come back," said Daphne.

"No, they're sure to need him with the Aurors," Draco replied.

"Maybe Dumbledore will teach us himself," Harry wondered. "Who better than the only one Voldemort ever feared?"

That made a lot of sense. Dumbledore's mighty reputation was formidable.

One game ended. Another began. Goyle came by with Mandy Brocklehurst to say hello. As they were leaving, Millie arrived.

"Where've you been?" Pansy asked.

"Had to sort out a situation with Arcen. Seems he and Lucas got caught trying to spy on Laine and the girls."

Pansy sighed. "Boys," she said, in a tone that said everything.

"Are they going to be okay?" Daphne asked.

"Their bones will heal eventually."

"I meant the girls."

"Oh, they were quite upset. I actually had to save Arcen from them. Family and all. Laine says hi, Harry."

"Oh. Hello."

"So deal me in."

They kept playing cards as pastures and fields passed into forests and trees. The sun moved steadily towards the west.

There was a knock on the door of the compartment. Tracy didn't wait for an answer before entering.

"Hey, guys."

"Hi, Tracy."

"Where've you been?" Harry inquired.

It was good to see Tracy hanging around with the group again. Harry smiled at her. She was still really pretty, and she'd worn a pair of dangling earrings that shimmered when she moved her head. She wore green eyeshadow and that combined with her blue eyes was set off by the greens and blues in the earrings. She'd cut her hair since Harry had seen her at his birthday party. It was now only down to her chin. Her older sister Jamie had styled it that way during her own fifth year.

"I was chatted up by a couple of boys from Hufflepuff."

"Oh yeah?" Pansy said, sounding interested. She was always curious about gossip.

"Alex Stebbins and Airen Summerby. Sixth years. They were quite nice. Well, Airen had to go to the prefect meeting, but Alex and I started talking about runes, and before I knew it, two hours had passed. He asked me if I'd like to go to Hogsmeade with him. I said yes, of course."

"Good for you!" Daphne said enthusiastically.

"I was so surprised. I don't think I'd even seen him before today."

Harry whole-heartedly approved of Alex Stebbins. If he could help Tracy get over her crush on him, Harry would give the man a job sharpening quills for ten Galleons a day.

An announcement came over the speaker.

"We will be arriving in Hogsmeade in approximately five minutes. Please gather your belongings and prepare to depart the train. Leave your luggage, as it will be taken to the school separately. Please be aware that all bags and trunks will be searched for Dark objects."

"Come on, Harry. We've got to go make sure the firsties get to the boats."

The train was just slowing down when they got into position with the rest of the prefects to be the first off the train. The train lumbered to a rumbling stop and the great steam engine hissed loudly. The prefects spread out down the length of the platform.

"First years, down the platform and to the left! Everyone else, off to the right and to the carriages!"

It was not Hagrid doing the directing. Professor Grubbly-Plank, the on-call substitute teacher, was urging the new students down to the boats. Harry raised a mental eyebrow at this change, but he had little time to ponder as he had to break up a group of third year Slytherins and Gryffindors who were exchanging words.

When at last the crowd had dispersed, the prefects piled into the last four carriages (separated by house) and rode up to the castle. They rolled to a stop in front of the main gate, which was still open to admit the students. They entered the Great Hall, and the doors closed behind them. They were the last to arrive.

Harry and Pansy sat down next to Daphne and Draco. The hall was extremely noisy, filled as it was with students chatting and yakking, sitting and waiting.

The doors from the Entrance Hall opened. A long line of scared-looking first-years entered, led by Professor McGonagall, who was carrying a stool on which sat an ancient wizard's hat, heavily patched and darned with a wide rip near the frayed brim. 

The buzz of talk in the Great Hall faded away. The first-years lined up in front of the staff table facing the rest of the students, and Professor McGonagall placed the stool carefully in front of them, then stood back. 

The first-years' faces glowed palely in the candlelight. A small boy right in the middle of the row looked as though he was trembling. The whole school waited with bated breath. Then the rip near the hat's brim opened wide like a mouth and the Sorting Hat burst into song: 

 

In times of old when I was new,  
And Hogwarts barely started,  
The founders of our noble school,  
Thought never to be parted,  
United by a common goal,  
They had the selfsame yearning,  
To make the world's best magic school,  
And pass along their learning.  
"Together we will build and teach!"  
The four good friends decided,  
And never did they dream,  
That they might some day be divided,  
For were there such friends anywhere,  
As Slytherin and Gryffindor?  
Unless it was the second pair  
Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw?  
So how could it have gone so wrong?  
How could such friendships fail?  
Why, I was there and so can tell,  
The whole sad, sorry tale.  
Said Slytherin, "We'll teach just those whose  
Ancestry is purest."  
Said Ravenclaw, "We'll teach those whose  
Intelligence is surest."  
Said Gryffindor, "We'll teach all those  
With brave deeds to their name."  
Said Hufflepuff, "I'll teach the lot,  
And treat them just the same."  
These differences caused little strife,  
When first they came to light,  
For each of the four founders had  
A house in which they might  
Take only those they wanted,  
So, for instance, Slytherin  
Took only pure-blood wizards  
Of great cunning, just like him,  
And only those of sharpest mind  
Were taught by Ravenclaw  
While the bravest and the boldest  
Went to daring Gryffindor.  
Good Hufflepuff, she took the rest,  
And taught them all she knew,  
Thus the houses and their founders  
Retained friendships firm and true.  
So Hogwarts worked in harmony  
For several happy years,  
But then discord crept among us  
Feeding on our faults and fears.  
The houses that, like pillars four,  
Had once held up our school,  
Now turned upon each other and,  
Divided, sought to rule.  
And for a while it seemed the school  
Must meet an early end,  
What with dueling and with fighting  
And the clash of friend on friend  
And at last there came a morning  
When old Slytherin departed  
And though the fighting then died out  
He left us quite downhearted.  
And never since the founders four  
Were whittled down to three  
Have the houses been united  
As they once were meant to be.  
And now the Sorting Hat is here  
And you all know the score:  
I sort you into houses  
Because that is what I'm for,  
But this year I'll go further,  
Listen closely to my song:  
Though condemned I am to split you  
Still I worry that it's wrong,  
Though I must fulfill my duty  
And must quarter every year  
Still I wonder whether Sorting  
May not bring the end I fear.  
Oh, know the perils, read the signs,  
The warning history shows,  
For our Hogwarts is in danger  
From external, deadly foes  
And we must unite inside her  
Or we'll crumble from within  
I have told you, I have warned you…  
Let the Sorting now begin. 

 

The Hat became motionless once more; applause broke out, though it was punctured, for the first time in Harry's memory, with muttering and whispers. All across the Great Hall students were exchanging remarks with their neighbors, and Harry, clapping along with everyone else, knew exactly what they were talking about. 

"Branched out a bit this year, hasn't it?" said Draco, his eyebrows raised. 

"Too right it has," said Harry. 

The Sorting Hat usually confined itself to describing the different qualities looked for by each of the four Hogwarts houses and its own role in Sorting them. Harry could not remember it ever trying to give the school advice before. 

"I wonder if it's ever given warnings before?" said Pansy, sounding slightly anxious. 

"Oh, yes," said Tracy knowledgeably. "The Hat feels itself honour-bound to give the school due warning whenever it feels –" 

Professor McGonagall, who was waiting to read out the list of first-years' names, was giving the whispering students the sort of look that scorches. The hall quickly grew silent. With a last frowning look that swept the four house tables, Professor McGonagall lowered her eyes to her long piece of parchment and called out the first name. 

"Euan Abercrombie."

As the first new student sat on the stool and put the Sorting Hat on his head, the whole Hall was hushed. This was always a very exciting moment. Who would claim the first?

"RAVENCLAW!"

Whoops and cheers burst out from the Ravenclaw table. Around the Hall, several students exchanged currency.

"Patricia Aronstein." "SLYTHERIN!"

"Wendy Ashland." "SLYTHERIN!"

Two giggling blonde girls were welcomed to the table by some of the many giggling girls of second year.

"Lucy Berry." "RAVENCLAW!"

"Grace Clark." "RAVENCLAW!"

"Regina Clark." "RAVENCLAW!"

Three students in a row was a string of luck for Ravenclaw. They were getting pretty rowdy. They'd gotten four of the first six new students so far.

"Collette Dashwood." "GRYFFINDOR!"

The first new Gryffindor was greeted with a storm of applause and foot-stomping.

"Fiona Dee." "SLYTHERIN!"

So far, Harry didn't recognize any family names. He clapped loudly for all the new Slytherins anyway.

"Warren Dwight." "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Randy Dyer." "HUFFLEPUFF!"

As Hufflepuff claimed their first, their table exploded with noise. Not content with clapping and foot-stomping, someone let off a few shrill whistles.

"Chelsea Finch." "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Eric Frobisher." "HUFFLEPUFF!"

Frobisher was a Beater on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. He wondered if this firstie was a sibling or a cousin.

"Jasper Goodwinter." "SLYTHERIN!"

Goodwinter was one of the old Slytherin families. One of the fourth years, Jeremiah, welcomed his relative to the table.

"Gladstone Halaiko." "HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Adam Harker." "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Jack Isham." "RAVENCLAW!"

"DeeDee Kelvar." "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Jack Kivaral." "SLYTHERIN!"

Harry applauded with his housemates. A third year, Benedict, waved frantically to summon the new arrival over.

"My brother," Benedict said to everyone.

"Welcome to Slytherin," Harry called.

"Prem Koothrapali." "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Olivia Lang." "HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Jiayi Li." "RAVENCLAW!"

"Chelsea Loxton." "RAVENCLAW!"

"Quentin Madley." "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Susan MacMillan." "RAVENCLAW!"

"Cecilia Moor." "SLYTHERIN!"

"About time we got another one," Draco grumbled to Harry under the applause.

"Bevan Napier." "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Justin Newman." "HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Basil Orme." "SLYTHERIN!"

"See, Draco? We're flagging early but finishing strong."

"Harriet Polk." "HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Llyod Price." "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Caradoc Reed." "RAVENCLAW!"

"Geoffrey Rosati." "HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Pamela Ruthven." "SLYTHERIN!"

"I was starting to think we were out," Draco muttered.

"Shut up," Harry replied good-naturedly.

"Ava Shahi." "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Adisa Shane." "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Clara Steinbeck." "HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Thatcher Sunderland." "RAVENCLAW!"

"Florance Tucker." "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Tobias Weiss." "SLYTHERIN!"

"Rose Zeller." "HUFFLEPUFF!"

All in all, there were not as many new students as last year. Harry was just as glad for that. It meant they could start the feast sooner.

"Before we may begin our feast, there is one other small matter to attend to. I'm sure you will all recall the friendships made during our last year together. We have a friend joining us again this year. I'd like you all to please give a warm Hogwarts welcome to Mister Blaise Zabini, who has returned to us from Beauxbatons."

A tall boy with ebony skin walked out from the antechamber where Harry had gone after his name came out of the Goblet of Fire. He stode confidently to the Slytherin table and sat down.

"To our newcomers," said Dumbledore in a ringing voice, his arms stretched wide and a beaming smile on his lips, "welcome! To our old hands – welcome back! There is a time for speechmaking, but this is not it. Tuck in!" 

There was an appreciative laugh and an outbreak of applause as Dumbledore sat down neatly and threw his long beard over his shoulder so as to keep it out of the way of his plate – for food had appeared out of nowhere, so that the five long tables were groaning under joints and pies and dishes of vegetables, bread and sauces and flagons of pumpkin juice.

"What were you saying before the Sorting?" Harry asked Tracy. "About the Hat giving warnings?" 

"Oh, yes," said Tracy. "At several times during the school's history, and always during periods of great danger, the Sorting Hat has delivered a warning. According to Hogwarts A History, its advice is the same: stand together, be strong from within." 

Goyle asked, "How can it know if the school's in danger if it's a Hat?" 

"I have no idea," said Tracy. "Of course, it lives in Dumbledore's office, so I suppose it might pick up a thing or two there. I mean, it's only been around since the time of the Founders. We know it can think and communicate. I wonder what you'd know if you lived a thousand years." 

Tracy paused and considered who she was talking to. "Then again, probably not a lot would change."

"Hey!"

"It wants all the houses to be friends?" said Harry, looking over at the Gryffindor table, where Ron Weasley was shovelling food into his mouth as quickly as he could, barely pausing to chew. He bore a remarkable resemblance to Crabbe, in fact. "Fat chance." 

The feast was magnificent, as it always was. Harry cleared his plate and took another helping of mashed potatoes. He poured a third glass of pumpkin juice to wash down another slice of roast. His steak and kidney pie was just too good to stop.

When he could not possibly eat another bite, the food vanished to be replaced by the desserts. There was too much to choose from. Harry ate his way steadily through a large plateful of treacle tart, his favorite.

When all the students had finished eating and the noise level in the Hall was starting to creep upwards again, Dumbledore got to his feet once more. Talking ceased immediately as all turned to face the Headmaster. Harry was feeling pleasantly drowsy now. His four-poster bed was waiting somewhere below, wonderfully warm and soft.

"Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices," said Dumbledore. "First-years ought to know that the Forest in the grounds is out-of-bounds to students – and a few of our older students ought to know by now, too.

"Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the four-hundred-and-sixty second time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes, nor are a number of other things even allowed in the castle, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr. Filch's office door.

"We have had two changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."

There was a round of polite but fairly unenthusiastic applause. Harry wondered where Hagrid had gone to. The big man loved being a teacher. For him to pass up on the chance to share more "critters" with the students would have required something of sublime importance. Dumbledore had not said for how long Grubbly-Plank would be teaching.

Dumbledore continued, "Tryouts for the house Quidditch teams will take place on the –" 

He broke off, looking inquiringly at Professor Umbridge. As she was not much taller standing than sitting, there was a moment when nobody understood why Dumbledore had stopped talking, but then Professor Umbridge cleared her throat, "Hem, hem," and it became clear that she had got to her feet and was intending to make a speech.

Dumbledore only looked taken aback for a moment, then he sat down smartly and looked alertly at Professor Umbridge as though he desired nothing better than to listen to her talk. Other members of staff were not as adept at hiding their surprise. Professor Sprout's eyebrows had disappeared into her flyaway hair, and Professor McGonagall, who was normally very stern anyway, looked as though someone had mouthed back to her in class. No new teacher had ever interrupted Dumbledore before. Many of the students were smirking; this woman obviously did not know how things were done at Hogwarts. 

"Thank you, Headmaster," Professor Umbridge simpered, "for those kind words of welcome." 

Her voice was high-pitched, breathy and little-girlish. There was something not quite right with her, though Harry couldn't put his finger on exactly what. Maybe it was just the audacity she had to break tradition. She gave another little throat-clearing cough ("hem, hem") and continued. 

"Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say!" She smiled, revealing very pointed teeth. "I am ever so thankful to have the chance to contribute back to the institution that holds such happy memories for me.

Professor Umbridge cleared her throat again ("hem, hem"), but when she continued, some of the breathiness had vanished from her voice. She sounded much more businesslike and now her words had a dull learned-by-heart sound to them. She intended to speechify.

"The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the wizarding community must be passed down through the generations lest we lose them forever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching." 

Professor Umbridge paused here and made a little bow to her fellow staff members, none of whom bowed back to her. Harry distinctly saw Professor McGonagall exchange a significant glance with Professor Sprout as Umbridge gave another little "hem, hem" and went on with her speech.

"That is what we will achieve together this year. I have reviewed the recent history of my particular subject and have found it," she paused, "unimpressive. Curriculum has been haphazard and spotty, and it simply will - not - do. There must be order, and I will bring it. High standards will be set, but I believe each and every one of you can meet them if given the chance.

"Never has the need for strong wizards and witches been greater. The Ministry recently passed Educational Decree number twenty-two, taking un to itself the power to appoint professors in the event that no suitable candidate can be found by the headmaster or the governors. It is the responsibility of the government to insure the safety of its citizenry, but we cannot be everywhere at once. Each and every one of you may have to defend yourself or your families from Death Eaters. I mean to see that you can fight back. The return of the Dark times will test us all, far more intensely than the OWLs and the NEWTs that some of you will take in the spring. I look forward to seeing you all in class."

She sat down. Dumbledore clapped. The staff followed his lead, though Harry noticed that several of them brought their hands together only once or twice before stopping. Harry clapped a few times. She definitely had the right idea, but her presentation could have put a certain three-headed dog to sleep. A few other students joined in the applause, but most had been taken unawares by the end of the speech, not having listened to more than a few words of it, and before they could start applauding properly, Dumbledore had stood up again. 

"Thank you very much, Professor Umbridge, that was most illuminating," he said, bowing to her. "If I may spin a thread off from you, with the return to the Dark times, there will be increased security here at Hogwarts. For reasons of safety, Hogsmeade weekends will be announced last minute and may be cancelled entirely."

There was a loud moaning from every table.

"I know this will make romantic relationships difficult to plan," the old wizard said with a twinkle in his bright blue eyes, "but a bit of spontaneity can be nice as well.

"Now, as I was saying, Quidditch tryouts will be held..." 

"Well, that was inspiring," Draco said dryly. "What a boring old bag, and what awful fashion sense."

"Which designer would you recommend, oh discriminating one?" Daphne asked.

"Anybody but what she's wearing."

Professor Umbridge did have the most horrible taste in colour. She wore an obnoxious amount of pink. Her fluffy cardigan, her stupid hat, and her long skirt were all like daggers right in the eyes.

"Sounds promising, I guess," Millie speculated.

Pansy agreed. "She recognizes Lockhart at least was useless. Quirrell too, for that matter. Lupin and Moody weren't too bad."

"I hope she teaches better than she speeches," Daphne quipped.

Harry groaned. "Daphne!" he protested.

"What?" She fluttered her eyelashes innocently.

"Bad!"

"Aw!"

"What was that bit about her being appointed by the Ministry?" Draco asked. "Couldn't Dumbledore find anybody to volunteer? Nobody who doesn't want to get caught up in the fighting again, so he'll do his part by passing on his knowledge to the next generation, and then wakes up one night to be slain by a gang of assassins?"

"You've been reading too many Martin's Mage Tales lately," Millie said.

"I was trapped in the house all summer. I read a lot of my old books. It was actually quite enjoyable once I got past the irritation."

"Well, there is a curse on the position, isn't there?" Pansy said. "Nobody lasts more than a year. You can even wind up dead! The Ministry had to do something."

"It means the Ministry's interfering at Hogwarts," Tracy said.

"It means Umbridge won't last out the year if the job really is jinxed." Draco snapped his fingers. "Ooh, I've just had an idea. Let's start a betting pool for when she finally gets done in."

"That's creepy! That is so wickedly creepy!" Daphne protested. "Malfoy, you are _not_ a nice person."

There was a great clattering and banging all around them; Dumbledore had obviously just dismissed the school, because everyone was standing up ready to leave the Hall. Pansy jumped up. 

"Come on, Harry, we're supposed to show the first-years where to go!" 

"There were four boys and five girls," Harry said. "I wrote their names down. Slytherin first years!"

The other prefects joined them in guiding their new housemates to their new second home in the dungeons. The pack of nine gathered around the prefects, looking up with wide, expectant, nervous faces. Had Harry ever been that young? He grinned. Yes, he had, and he still felt similarly starry-eyed quite often in the magical world.

Out from the Great Hall to the entrance hall to the steps leading down to the dungeons they went. They took the long, circuitous route, the one that didn't require any secret passages.

When they came to a T intersection, Pansy gestured to the left. "That is the way to the Potions lab." She turned to the right and kept walking. "This corridor has a lot of branches," she continued, walking past them all, "but don't take any turns or you'll never find the wall. At several places you'll see paintings of famous Slytherins or statues and so on. The other houses think the entrance to our common room must be connected to one of them, but that's silly. They move around in order to keep everyone else confused. The password is 'unity'."

The bricks of the wall folded back to reveal the entry to the Slytherin common room. The first years slowly made their way inside, marvelling at the great fireplace, the greenish lamps, and the decadent chairs.

"First years, welcome to Slytherin," Bletchley said. "I'm Miles Bletchley, and I'm a seventh year, as well as being Quidditch Captain. You've been Sorted to the best house at Hogwarts. Isn't that right, Heather?"

"Yes, Miles, it is. Hi, guys. I'm Heather Chandler, and we are here to help you out in any way possible, but first and foremost, please understand that we seventh years and also the fifth years have a very important test at the end of the school year. The results can help determine if we get good jobs once we finish our time at Hogwarts. So the sixth years are really the ones you want to try talking to first. If you can't find them, _then_ you come to us. What do you say? Deal?"

The firsties nodded.

"Those wonderful sixth years will now introduce themselves. Take it away, Dave!"

"Hello, first years. I'm David Palce. I had a joke, but it wasn't very funny. I was going to tell you anyway, but now it's been built up too much and will sound even more dumb and more fake than before. I like collecting Chocolate Frog Cards, so if you want to trade, let me know, and I'm looking forward to not having a big test at the end of the year."

"I'm Samantha Warrington. I like Charms and Transfiguration. I'm part of the Charms Club, if anyone is interested in joining."

"The fifth years."

"I'm Pansy Parkinson. If any prefect tells you to do something, you do it. The password to our common room is 'unity', and we mean it. We prefects are looking out for the safety and well-being of every single one of you. You will obey out of self-interest. In the common room, you'll all have to wear elf caps. If one of the older students tells you to do something, you do it. It's a grand old tradition, and in several years, you'll be able to boss around the firsties. We may tease you, but it's all in good fun. You truly are our fellows, and we care for you."

"I'm Harry Potter."

The gasps were mildly irritating but expected.

"You're not allowed to drag me into your arguments with the Gryffindors. You're not allowed to come back with 'I'll have Harry Potter hex you', or anything like that. I won't do it, and I'll probably give you detention."

"Harry was the winner of the Triwizard Tournament last year," David said. "I wouldn't cross him, but otherwise he's perfectly all right."

"No classes tomorrow, as it's Saturday," Samantha said. "Even so, look sharp in the common room by half-seven. We'll go up to breakfast and give you the tour. Until then, good night."

"Bedrooms are down those halls," David added. "Boys turn right, girls turn left. You'll see a plate marked 'First Years'."

The first years shuffled off to bed, leaving the prefects lounging in front of the fireplace.

"They're so ickle!" Pansy gushed.

Heather giggled. "We said the same thing when we became prefects."


	9. The First Days Back

With the firsties tucked away in bed, the older students gradually filtered back out to the common room. It was Friday night, the beginning of the weekend. There were no classes until Monday. There was absolutely no reason to go to bed.

It seemed strange to be able to stay up late on the first night back, but the Slytherins were not ones to waste an opportunity. Bletchley brought out a wizard's wireless, and music began to play throughout the room. They kept the volume relatively low since everybody wanted to talk and catch up.

Harry found himself in the corner on a couch with Pansy and Daphne. Draco sat in a chair nearby. Goyle had leaned a beanbag chair up against the couch and settled himself down.

"Seems a shame not to let the ickle firsties participate," Draco observed, "but they must be knackered. I remember I was first night."

"No kidding," Harry agreed. "I think I was out before my head even hit the pillow. I'm quite done in as it is."

To illustrate the point, Daphne yawned.

"Where's Crabbe?" Harry said.

"He's still in the dorm," Goyle replied.

"Turning in early?"

"He's kind of afraid to see you. You know, given what his dad tried to do."

"Not an unwise thing," Draco noted. "I still can't believe he was stupid enough to try the Killing Curse right there in public."

"Maybe he was under Imperius," Goyle suggested.

"Sirius says they're looking into that. It would be easier to explain."

"Or the Dark Lord just tried to get an easy victory," Pansy said. "Maybe it was just a normal order."

"Whose order?" Harry asked.

"The Dark Lord."

After a summer of hearing Sirius and Remus use Voldemort's given name, hearing Pansy use his presumed title was bothersome to Harry. Mr. Malfoy had used it, but he'd been ingrained to. No, it was time to put a stop to this.

"No, Pansy, that's not his name. His name is Voldemort."

Pansy flinched. "Don't make me say it. Please."

"It's just a name. You shouldn't be afraid of a name. His name is Voldemort."

She gave a small whimper. "V- V- V-" she stuttered.

"Voldemort."

"Vvvvv-"

"Voldemort."

"Why can't I just say Dark Lord? You know who I mean. It's not like there's another one running around somewhere."

"Voldemort." Harry was inexorable. He stared hard at Pansy, willing his own strength to pass into her.

"Volde..." she whispered.

"What was that?"

"Voldemort," she breathed.

"Again."

"Voldemort." It was a little bit louder now, half a whisper.

"Yes, Pansy," Harry cheered. "Keep it up."

"Voldemort." One could almost hear her.

"You're doing fantastic, love."

"Voldemort." Triumph!

Harry squeezed her hands. The way the name was verbotin, one might expect Death Eaters to pop up and start flinging hexes. Her face was still slightly wary, as though she couldn't quite believe she was getting away with saying the forbidden name.

"Well done." He turned to Daphne. "Let's hear you."

"Why are you picking on us girls? Does Draco say it yet?"

"We'll get to him. Come on, then."

"Dark Tosser?" She grinned hopefully at him, trying to be cute. Her cuteness generally got her rather far, but Harry would not be put off.

"Daphne." His tone was mildly reproving, letting her know that the time for joking was over.

"Volde-thingy."

"..."

"Oh, fine. You know, I don't think you appreciate just how hard this is. We've been afraid of his name since we were old enough to know what fear is." She took a deep breath. "Voldemort," she whispered.

"See? Not so hard."

"Draco's turn."

Draco loved to be in the spotlight, but not when having to do something difficult like this. His normal cocky expression vanished as his lips shaped the word, but nothing came out except a dry wheeze.

"What was that, mate?"

"Vol-"

"One more time."

"I hate this. Vol. De. Mort. There, I said it."

"That hardly counts," Pansy objected.

"It's the best you're going to get for now."

"You, Draco, are far from the best I can get."

Harry winced. Pansy's harsh words were spoken pleasantly, almost matter-of-factly.

Draco's tone turned very frosty. "The Dark Lord's name is Voldemort," he said, his eyes locked with hers.

Pansy shivered. Draco didn't.

"Are you satisfied, you relentless, foul-mouthed-"

"I do not have a foul mouth! I speak with the voice of angels."

"Only the ones that have been cast down into the fiery pit."

"Whose singing is thus even more lovely to tempt mortal man. Care to try again, you simplistic, uncouth, moron of an ape who happened to pick up a fallen wand one day?"

"How long have you been saving that one, Pansy?" Daphne interjected.

"Ever since he decided it would be a good idea to dunk us all under water."

"That was particularly brainless of him."

"I still don't think it's fair that you just decided it was my idea."

"It absolutely was," Pansy said. "Tracy had the right of it."

"Where is she anyway?"

"She wanted to read for a bit."

"Read? Well, that's Tracy."

At that moment, Blaise Zabini came over to the group. "Good evening, all. It's a pleasure to see you again."

"Welcome back, Zabini," Harry said. "It's been awhile."

"It has, at that. Call me Blaise. Of course I remember you, Harry."

"You remember Draco Malfoy."

"Dray."

"No, that's not it."

"Pansy Parkinson."

"Cici."

"What did you just call me?"

"Daphne."

"Daffy."

"He doesn't know when to stop, does he?"

"Goyle."

"The Boil."

"Zabini, I'm going to thump you. Can I thump him, Draco?"

"Oh, please do. Then I'm going to hex him."

"Relax, Dray. Everything is cool."

"Will you _stop_ calling me by that ridiculous nickname?"

Pansy still looked outraged, but on seeing how perturbed Draco was, her face slowly morphed into a calculating smirk. "Dray, darling, please calm yourself. You're disturbing my auras."

Daphne got in on it quickly. "Oh my stars, it's just too shocking. Such violence is truly barbaric."

"This Frenchman is being unaccountably rude to all of us, and you're on his side?"

"I rather like his little pet names."

"If that's the way you want to play it, _Cici_ ," he sneered.

A brief flash of worry crossed her face, but it vanished beneath the mask of resolve.

Draco turned back to Zabini. "You don't want to start this with me. I'll hex you back to France if you persist with this."

"Okay, fine. I was only trying to put everyone at ease. Sorry."

"You'd better be."

Zabini moved away from them and went to speak with some of the sixth years.

"So what do you think about Zabini coming back?" Draco said to Harry. "Is there a new bed in the dorm? Because I'm not sharing."

"I'm sure they've planned for him."

"Isn't it rather convenient? Someone we have no idea about can suddenly sleep in the same room as you? Did they check this fellow out?"

Harry worried about the answer to that question. Dumbledore was not as sharp as he once was, according to Sirius. He decided not to trust that the old wizard had done his due diligence. He needed to call Sirius on the magic mirror before he slept tonight.

While he was concerned about this Zabini boy, plenty of his fellow Slytherins made it a point to make eye contact with him and express solidarity. The sixth and seventh year girls were sitting at nearby table. Each one looked over and gave Harry a slight nod. Heather Chandler and Samantha Warrington, the prefects, must have talked to them.

Laine and Ginny were chatting at a table with Sarrah Nolan and Shawna Osman. They occasionally looked in his direction, regarding him speculatively. Michelle Holt, still ostracized from their clique, sat at another table with Lucas. Laine shot her twin brother vicious glares, but he either didn't see them or didn't care. Harry thought it was nice that someone was reaching out to the poor girl.

Though he would be getting to know the other prefects, Harry generally didn't mingle with the upper year students aside from the lads on the team. They were good lads, if a bit rowdy. Once Harry had proven his worth to the team, he'd become solid with them all. His Quidditch mates had defended him during the Triwizard Tournament, during the Chamber of Secrets nonsense. He was counting on them standing up with him.

It looked as though Harry would get the chance to talk to them sooner rather than later. Two of the Chasers, Montague and Pucey, came up as the evening wore on.

Pucey spoke first. "Hey, Harry, did you stay in shape this summer? Get lots of practice in?"

Montague didn't let Harry answer. "Because Miles is going to run us ragged. He spent all holiday designing new plays. As if the manual didn't have more than enough already."

"I hope he doesn't think he's better than me at being a Seeker."

"Nothing like that, Harry," Pucey replied, "but there are a lot of things that can be done with the Seeker that are absolutely legal, just tricky to pull off. We're going to work more on that stuff this year."

"Should be fun," Montague said.

"If by 'fun', you mean 'not at all'," Harry said wryly.

"There's that Seeker humour."

"We'll see you around, Harry. We've got to go play a prank on Miles."

Harry chuckled. "Have fun with that, guys."

They hurried away, and Harry made a mental note to have a more private word with them.

"They're just asking for extra torture at practice, aren't they?" Draco said.

"Yup. If they get caught."

"Better than losing points or getting detention," Pansy said, "which is exactly what would happen if they pranked Gryffindor. That would not help us hold on to the Quidditch Cup."

"I wonder where Charles is," Daphne said. Her former boyfriend had sort of drifted away. Now it looked like he was avoiding her deliberately; he was seldom apart from his mates.

"That bum," Pansy said derisively. "Not to worry, Daphne. We'll find you a nice boy. I think Harry's available."

Harry coughed and began to feel hot under the collar. "Pansy!"

"What? You two have been aware of each other for years and done nothing about it. Someone has to prompt you."

"I was still thinking about it."

Daphne giggled. "Ooh, you were thinking about me, were you?"

Harry wanted to bury his face in his hands to hide his humiliation. "I'm thinking about a lot of things. I don't even know if I want to ask anyone out right now. I've got a lot to do this year. Between prefect meetings, Quidditch practices, and managing the classwork, I'll be lucky if I have time to sleep."

"Good thing I brought Dad's coffee pot," Daphne said. "If you ask me out, you can share it with me."

"Silence, you foul temptress."

"Is that your idea of sweet talk?"

Harry couldn't take it anymore. "I'm going to bed. Good night."

"Pleasant dreams!" Daphne said brightly.

She always had to get in the last word. He decided to let her.

"I think I'll turn in as well," Draco said, getting to his feet. "It has been a long day."

Goyle also elected to retire, and the three boys ambled down the corridor to the dormitory. Theo and Crabbe were already asleep with curtains drawn.

Harry undressed, dropping his clothes to the floor. He struggled into his pajama bottoms, pulled back the covers of his bed, and laid down. He bid the room a final good night and drew the curtains.

There was no sound. Harry had put a great many spells on his bed, including the Silencing Charm. With the potential for ambush at Hogwarts, it was not prudent to sleep without magical protections. If Sirius had gotten his way, Padfoot would have slept on a rug at the foot of the bed. In between Animagus and Apparition, Sirius had taught him about Locking Hexes. That teaching was now put to good use as Harry set his security for the night. He wanted to make the contained spell a Stunning Charm, but he hadn't been able to make the magical fields align properly, so he was left with the Full-Body Bind.

Harry put a Sticking Charm on the headboard. He took off his glasses and pressed them up against the wood and let go. The glasses stayed in place. He did the same with his wand. Perfect. Now he didn't have to leave his wand on his bedside table or under his pillow.

Constant vigilance. Harry hated thinking like this. He wanted things back the way they used to be when he didn't have to worry about his friends hexing him in the night, or intruders entering his room to abduct him and carry him off to Voldemort.

Pushing away the negative thoughts, Harry lay down to sleep. He tried to draw on the calm sense he'd found during his Animagus meditations, hoping it would help him quiet his troublesome thoughts.

And he slept.

* * *

After breakfast the next morning, Harry made his way to Professor Snape's office. He knocked firmly on the oak door, using the secret knock to announce himself as a Slytherin alone.

"Enter!"

The door opened. Professor Snape was seated at his desk. He had his head bent and was writing with a black raven's feather. His quill strokes were quick and jerky. His greasy black hair hung forward into his face, though his nose still jutted prominently.

"Hello, sir."

"Good morning, Mister Potter. What may I do for you?"

"I've got something for you, sir. I know how much you like having the House Cup and the Quidditch Cup in your office. Well, I thought I'd give you another trophy for the trifecta."

Harry pulled the Triwizard Cup out and set it on the desk.

"I think it would look quite fine, Mister Potter." Snape had a very delighted smile on his face. "You did a most excellent job during the tasks. For an unwilling contestant, you performed admirably. Up Slytherin."

"Up Slytherin! How was your holiday, sir?"

"Quite busy. I brewed several complicated potions, sat in on several staff meetings, and did some travelling. Yourself?"

"Not nearly as exciting as all that," Harry said regretfully. "I did a lot of studying. It never hurts to be prepared."

"The OWL year is frequently fraught with fear, but with sufficient diligence can be overcome and still allow one to get a full night's refreshment."

"Any hints on your first lecture?" Harry asked hopefully.

Professor Snape spared another small smile. "Mister Potter, that wouldn't be fair to the other students."

"They have legs. Let them walk down here and ask. Term has started. What true teacher would deny us knowledge?"

"Five points to Slytherin, Mister Potter, for a most plausible explanation. The first lecture is a double lesson, and you will be brewing even though it is the first day. There is little enough time to cover all the material before the examination."

"What potion will we be making, sir?"

"The Draught of Peace. It requires precise technique and adherence to the instructions. It is also quite commonly required during the practical portion of the OWL."

"Thank you, sir." Draught of Peace. Harry would read up on it tonight.

"How do you find it being back at school again? There is quite a fair amount of attention on you this year."

"Being a prefect, sir?"

"Amongst other things."

"Well, I'm happy to be a prefect, of course. I wanted to be like my mum. She was Head Girl too."

It may have just been the fire, but Harry thought he saw a flash in Snape's eyes.

"As for other things, it's good to have friends. It helps."

"Have you spoken to Mister Crabbe yet? Surely you're not going to let his father's actions pass without comment."

Harry wasn't surprised Professor Snape already knew about the incident in the Hogs Head.

"No, I just don't know what to say. I don't know if it was a plan by Voldemort, an independent action on Crabbe's part, or something else I haven't thought of."

"Why not let him speak for himself, rather than judge him on his father's behaviour? He has been your friend for four years now. He merits that much consideration at least."

"Yes, sir. I know. I'll talk to him this afternoon."

"Good. The more ties of friendship and influence you have, the better things will be."

"Yes, sir."

Figuring it would be wise to heed Professor Snape's advice immediately, Harry went directly back to the Slytherin common room. He found Crabbe with Goyle at a far table near the bookshelves.

Goyle noticed Harry's approach, and Crabbe caught his sudden shift in focus. He got to his feet, an uncertain expression on his face.

"Hi, Crabbe."

"H-hi, Harry."

"Have you got a few minutes? I'd like to ask you a question about the Astronomy homework."

"Astronomy?" Crabbe's eyes lit up. It was his best subject. "Sure, Harry."

"Let's go to the room. It might be a bit too noisy out here for academic discussion."

"Right. Yeah."

"Lead on."

Harry followed Crabbe down the corridor to the end where the plaque on the door now read "Fifth Years". They went inside, and Harry closed the door behind them.

"Was it the star charts? Or maybe the movements in the Great Dance?"

Harry shook his head. "No, Crabbe. I did just fine with the Astronomy assignment. I wanted to talk about Voldemort."

Crabbe's composure deserted him, and he staggered. He might have fallen had he not grabbed a bed post.

"He's trying to kill me, Crabbe, and your dad was a part of it."

"Please, Harry. My dad doesn't want to harm you. He's afraid to. When the Dark Lord ordered that no one was to touch you except him, my dad took him literally. He doesn't want to find out what would happen to the one who trespassed on the Dark Lord's claim."

"So what was it then, in your opinion?"

"It was the Imperius Curse. Dad's rubbish at resisting it, just like I am."

"That doesn't make any sense, Crabbe. Why would Voldemort use your dad to kill me when he wants to do it himself?"

"I don't know, but I know he wouldn't have done it on his own." Crabbe repeated his claim, his voice certain.

Harry sighed. "Look, mate, I don't know why your dad did what he did, but he tried to use the Killing Curse on me. Whatever his reason, the same could be true for you. If they could Imperius him, they can Imperius you. If they can blackmail him, they can blackmail you. If they can threaten his family, they can threaten your family."

"Nobody's influencing me."

"I need proof, Crabbe."

"You mean an oath."

"Maybe. This is my life, man. I'm not taking chances with it."

Crabbe drew his wand and held it up in front of him. Startled, Harry drew his own and pointed it at Crabbe; however, the big boy spoke no spell.

"I am not being controlled by anyone other than myself. I am not under the influence of potions, enchantments, or compulsions. I will not take action that I believe will bring harm to my friend Harry Potter."

A burst of white light from the tip of the wand sealed the oath. He'd been telling the truth.

"Thank you, Crabbe. I hope you plan to fight on my side."

"Not many choices left, really. I wasn't keen on being a Death Eater. Either way, I don't expect to survive this thing."

Harry could have wished for a bit more enthusiasm.

"I mean, if I join the Death Eaters, I'll likely get killed by a Auror or the Dark Lord in a rage. If I fight against the Dark Lord, I could get killed by a Death Eater. Seems pretty even odds of death."

"Chin up, mate. You might get stomped by a dragon. Wouldn't that be fun?"

Crabbe grinned briefly. "Yeah, I guess. If I gotta go, I might as well go with style."

"So are we okay, fathead?"

Crabbe rolled his eyes. "Yeah, we're okay, Harry. I'm with you, but my head isn't fat."

"Good. Glad to have you. We can head back out now."

Harry detoured to answer the call of nature. As he left the loo and headed down the corridor to the common room, Harry encountered Theo. He walked with his head down, eyes on the ground. His shoulders were slumped, and his bag was clutched limply in one hand.

"Hi, Theo," Harry said. "We missed you at breakfast."

Theo looked up at the sound of Harry's voice, but he gave no further recognition. He kept walking and went into the dorm, shutting the door behind him.

Harry ached for Theo. If only there was something he could _do_ , but there was nothing else that could help aside from what he'd just done. He could only reach out to Theo, let him know his friends were near. The rest was up to him.

In the common room, the fifth years were gathered at a table playing cards. Draco was currently facing down Millie, as everyone else's cards had exploded. 

"Come on, Mils," Pansy urged. "Get him!"

"Gin!" Millie crowed.

Draco's cards exploded in his hand.

"I win!"

"That's it, I'm out," Draco declared. "That's three hands straight."

"Aww, come on, Draco," coaxed Millie. "Just one more. One more. Double or nothing."

"Absolutely not. I've lost enough already."

"Are you lot gambling?" Harry asked. "That's against the school rules. I can't be knowing about that sort of thing. I'm a prefect, you know."

"Oh, sit down, prefect," Tracy said. "You're just mad because you didn't have a chance to get in on the game."

"How'd you guess?" Harry replied with a grin.

"How'd the talk with Crabbe go?" she inquired.

"Talk?"

"Oh, I know he fell for that line about the Astronomy assignment, but you spent time with Professor Lupin this summer, and he knows a lot about Astronomy. Hence, I deduced that you wanted to talk to him about something. His dad, right?"

"Yeah. It went okay."

"Is he going to be a problem?"

"No, he seems really confused by everything. I don't think he was a part of it. He says he's with me, and I'll believe that until I see otherwise. Now we just need to figure out his dad's actions."

"Where are they keeping him since there's no prison anymore?"

"They've opened some new cells under the Ministry. Mister Malfoy was telling me about them. They never had much luck with traditional cells because the inmates were always trying to escape and could be very creative about getting out. They'd find ways to take advantage of outbursts of accidental magic. Well, that's why the old prison worked so well. With the dementors roaming the halls, everyone wants to stay nice and safe in their cell."

"So how've they managed to get prisoners to want to stay in these new cells?"

"Instead of a back wall, there's nothing but empty air."

"What? How do they keep them from getting out?"

"They've installed a bottomless pit. Guests are free to leave their cells at any time."

"I'd watch that first step. Brilliant idea."

"They're all so worried about falling, they can't concentrate on anything else. Any accidental magic they may do is directed towards keeping them put."

"You know what would make that idea even better?" Draco said. "Put the floor on an angle so that if they roll in their sleep-"

"Eew!" Daphne burst out. "Creepy! Absolutely creepy, Draco!"

"It's not a bad idea," Harry said. "I'll have Sirius write to Director Bones and suggest it. They seem to think that enough time overlooking an abyss will crack him, and he'll talk." Since Sirius had been innocent, Harry knew it was possible that some of the other inmates of the old prison could be too, but the new prison sounded a lot more humane than sticking people in with dementors.

Crabbe shuddered. "I suppose now's the time to mention my dad's fear of heights and of falling."

Draco laughed sharply. "That's a pity. Hopefully he'll talk that much sooner."

"What if he was just under Imperius?"

"If he was, he'd have been ordered to kill himself in custody so as to not betray any knowledge. That hasn't happened, so there's something else at play. A little time contemplating falling but never landing will break him."

"Can we talk about something else, please?" Pansy requested. She seemed slightly green, though it may have been the light from the lanterns.

"Isn't it time for lunch?" Draco said brightly.

And so it was.

Up in the Great Hall, Draco had a sterling idea. Between bites of a chicken sandwich, he said, "Hey, Harry. Why don't we get out on the pitch after we eat and pass the Quaffle around a bit?"

"That is an excellent idea."

"Good," Millie said. "It's going to be tough to go against the Chasers without Theo."

Laine was sitting one seat away from Harry and turned her head. "Nobody can beat Montague, Pucey, and Warrington. Why bother trying?"

"Because how are you going to get better unless you go up against people better than you? You don't learn anything new when you play less experienced flyers. We need to test ourselves against the best."

Millie pounded her fist into her opposite palm.

"I bet you're excited to have Quidditch back on, Harry. I know last year was tough on you."

"Honestly, I was so busy training and worrying, I didn't have much time to miss Quidditch. It'll be nice to get back in the sky, yeah. I hope they've blasted that damned maze to bits."

"I was thinking of going out for the team," Laine said unexpectedly. "What do you think? Would I be a good player?"

Harry felt knocked for a loop. Laine had never expressed any interest in playing Quidditch before. She'd been a fan of his participation, and she'd cheered the house team as loudly as any other Slytherin, yet he hadn't even known she cared to fly.

"Anyone who wants to should try out. More competition means we get the best players. What position?"

"Well there will be openings for Chaser, but I think it would be grand to play Seeker."

Harry looked Laine up and down, trying to capture that sense of the Captain's Eye. She was short and slight. She had the right build for a Seeker, but could she fly?

"Maybe," he said appraisingly. "I'm not sure when trials are going to be held. I'll look for you."

"Don't I have to beat you to get starting position?"

"That's right. Think you can do it?"

Laine giggled. "Not a chance, but it'll be fun to try, and I hope I can make reserve squad."

"That's the spirit. We'll make a Quidditch player of you yet."

"If I've got to play Chaser, I suppose I can deal with that."

"So who else wants to go? Theo?"

Theo glanced over at Harry. He said nothing and looked back down to his plate.

Harry tried not to let it bother him. Theo would respond when it was time. At least he'd come up to the Great Hall for lunch after skipping both dinner and breakfast.

They made a quick trip down to the dorms to retrieve brooms. Harry had his Firebolt; Draco had his Numbus 2000. Crabbe, Goyle, and Millie all had Cleansweeps. Laine and Lucas had matched Nimbus 2001s. Ginny carried a pretty beat-up Comet.

"Nice broom, Weasley," Draco said. "You might be able to get a good few Galleons for that as an antique."

"Stuff it, Malfoy," Ginny replied sweetly. "It's what you rich bastards like to call an 'heirloom'."

Laine snickered, and Harry couldn't help but do the same.

Draco inclined his head slightly, granting her the point.

"It once belonged to my brother Charlie, who was asked to play for England. If it's good enough for him to train up with, it's good enough for me."

"Enough, Ginny, please," Draco said easingly. "I was only teasing."

"I don't find it funny." She tossed her hair back and began to put it in a tight braid. "I don't want to be on your team."

"Have it your way."

"Let's get in the sky."

They headed down to the Quidditch pitch. Draco carried the Quaffle. This was not the team ball, but Draco's own personal. He'd purchased it when he'd first conceived of trying out for the position of Chaser. He tossed it from hand to hand as he sized up the group.

"Which of you lot thinks you're good enough to fly with Millie and me? If Theo is out, we need someone to challenge the seventh years with. Crabbe and Goyle are likely to make the team this year as Beaters, so who'll it be? You, Slater? What about you, Slater?"

"I want to be Keeper," Lucas said.

"Well doesn't that just help us," Draco said snidely. "Start with some warm-up laps. Slater? Weasley?"

"Stuff it, Malfoy," Ginny said. "I told you, I am not on your team today."

"All right, Slater," Draco said, sounding a lot like Bletchley. "Get in formation. Listen for my signals. I assume you know the basic patterns?"

"Of course."

"Good. Let's see how well you've learned them."

Laine was not the worst flyer Harry had ever seen, but she had horrible precision with her turns. She was always a half second behind Draco and Millie as they ran through a basic approach pattern.

"Pick it up, Slater!" Draco called. "You're not counting."

"Sorry!"

Laine did improve a bit, enough to make Draco call a new pattern. She seemed to know this one better.

"Good! Again, but faster."

Crabbe, Goyle, and Ginny were talking strategy, watching the trio currently warming up.

"Malfoy?" Ginny called. "Are you ready yet?"

"No, but whatever. Get it together, Slater. Legal territory is half the pitch, unless Harry wants to play as the other Keeper."

Harry had never played the position in his life.

"Sure. Why not?"

"Harry is on our team," Draco said. "Slater, we're going to give you a workout."

"Let's go."

The final score was ridiculously high. Harry was rubbish as a Keeper. For all his skill in predicting the movements of the snitch, he was no use at all at guessing which hoop an oncoming Chaser would throw for.

Lucas had been rubbish as Keeper as well. Laine hadn't been bad as a Chaser, but she hadn't been very good either. She was better than Crabbe and Goyle, but not as good as Ginny. 

Ginny had scored most of the goals for her team. She was a tricky flyer. The redhead's anger at Draco led her to play rough Slytherin Quidditch. He was limping as they made their way back to the common room. Everyone was tired but aside from Draco, they were extremely satisfied with their little outing.

"Absolutely miserable," Draco said. "Instincts of a flobberworm."

Draco kept up a running diatribe on the way back up to the castle, disparaging everything from Lucas' instincts and his sense of dress to Laine's clumsiness and throwing ability.

Harry let his friend rant. It was Draco's concern how and with whom he and Millie tried to make the team. Harry had simply been glad to fly again. He had been cooped up too long in Grimmauld Place. Being in the open sky made him indescribably happy. He had needed to be free.

They had just enough time to enjoy deliciously hot showers before heading up to the Great Hall, and after a big dinner, Harry went back to his dormitory feeling very full and very sleepy. He laid down on his bed and kicked off his shoes.

_Just a few minutes. I'll rest for a few minutes and then go back out._

And he slept.

* * *

Harry woke with a start. The sun stabbed into his eyes. He reached blearily for the curtain and yanked it into place.

Precious seconds later, his waking brain processed his action, and Harry sat bolt upright, groping at his waist for his wand.

Morning. It was morning, and Harry had fallen asleep last night without his protective spells. He started to swear softly. Stupid! How could he have been so careless? There was a new student in the dorm whom they knew nothing about. Professor Moody would be ashamed of him.

He hadn't even managed to take his glasses off the previous night. Resolving to do better, Harry looked around the dorm. The other five boys all had their curtains drawn. Nobody wanted to rise early on Sunday. Did he want to go back to sleep? Harry yawned. Yes, most certainly. He pulled his curtains closed, which automatically locked the magic protecting his bed.

Several hours later, Harry rose with the others and meandered up to the Great Hall for breakfast. As he ate, he kept an eye on Laine. She was poised, light-hearted, and viciously witty. She'd also been a real trooper during the Triwizard Tournament. Her counsel had helped keep things from getting too insane for him. Harry decided he needed to spend some quality time with his public relations agent. As everyone filed back to the common room, he approached and touched her on the elbow.

"Laine, would you like to go for a walk up on the battlements?"

"I would, Harry. Let me fetch my cloak."

Harry leaned against the wall near the fireplace. Laine quickly emerged, and they left the common room side by side.

"Excited about classes tomorrow?"

"Somewhat. I'm glad we get to have a small reprieve before diving into things. The chance to adjust back to Hogwarts is good. It's nice to be able to catch up with everyone since we could hardly leave the house over ths summer. Congratulations, by the way. That's a very shiny badge you have there."

"Thanks," Harry said, feeling somewhat bashful about having shined it so much.

"Given any points yet?"

"Nope."

"Taken any?"

"Haven't had a chance to."

"You could give me some points."

"What for?"

"For being sneaky and knowing a secret passage? C'mon."

Laine took his hand and turned left into the endless corridors of the dungeons. While one couldn't get "lost" per se, one could spend an awful lot of time getting nowhere if you didn't know where a secret passage was. There were several different ways to get up into the castle proper from the dungeons. Laine drew her wand and with a quick tap on the right sequence of bricks near the next turn she opened up one Harry had never taken before.

"Where's this lead?"

"The fourth floor. You wanted to get out on the battlements, right?"

"Yeah."

"Then in we go."

"Ladies first."

It was a narrow, winding staircase that went up and up and up. There were no landings, no other places to possibly get out. Laine was right in front of him holding her lighted wand high, and he found himself captivated by the swaying of her hips. His mind seemed to switch off as Harry climbed and watched.

Laine stopped at the top of the stairs and pushed on a bulging stone on the wall. The secret entrance slid open. Harry walked out to find himself on the battlements right next to a proper door leading to some classrooms.

"How'd you ever find this one?"

"My cousin Catherine told me. She was in Slytherin a long time ago. Ten years or more."

"Thanks for sharing it with me."

Laine smiled. Harry's heart, already going faster from his view as they ascended, skipped a beat. Did she still like him?

"My pleasure, Harry. Shall we?"

"Shall we what?"

Laine giggled. "Walk. That's what you asked me up here for, wasn't it?" She giggled again. "Or did you have some other purpose in mind?"

Yep, she still liked him.

"No, I didn't want to walk."

Laine continued to giggle. "Then what would you like to do with me?"

Did she have to talk so suggestively? Harry felt his brain detaching.

"Talk," Harry said, desperately grabbing at that word in his fevered state. "Talk. Want to talk."

"Talk? Sure, Harry. We can talk about anything you want. What's on your mind?"

Oh, if only she knew what was on his mind.

"The war."

Laine shivered though the day was not particularly cold. She drew her cloak around her shoulders, covering the light blouse she wore. 

"Scary thing, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Harry agreed.

"So what plans are you making to fight him?"

"Just going to study as hard as I can. I've got to get the ordinaries beat before I can try to get fancy. I wish it didn't take so much time to grow up!"

"Me too. I'm already bored with being fourteen. I want to be an adult!"

"I can't wait to come of age. Then I'll be able to Apparate." Openly.

"I've never much liked Apparition. Always made me queasy. I much prefer broom travel. Ever since the concealment charms have gotten so much better, it's very easy to just hop a broom and fly."

"If you have the time."

"True, but time spent in leisure is not time wasted."

"The view certainly is amazing from high up."

"Not that we'd know from this past summer."

Harry didn't reply. He still found it hard to accept that his news had been responsible for so many ruined summer holidays.

He changed the subject. "I was really glad to hear that your dad is supporting the Ministry."

"Daddy respects strong leadership. The way Minister Fudge has been so adamant about properly perparing and the steps he's taken to make sure we're ready, I mean. Daddy said throwing money around is one thing, but holding up a plan to spend it is entirely different. Addressing specific needs and shortages, strengths and weaknesses, and generally treating it like a business are the way to get ready."

"All numbers, you mean?"

"No, the numbers of the cost have ceased to have any meaning. It's going to take the Ministry ages to pay for all this, but Daddy told me about one of Fudge's speeches where he said that there was no price too high to pay for freedom."

"Just as long as they spend the money wisely."

"If we didn't take a risk on the Ministry paying back its debts, we'd all have to live with You-Know-Who just taking whatever he wants. Those Death Eaters are savages."

"I hope they're not getting loans from Gringotts."

Laine laughed softly. Harry could see her eyes dancing.

"You're so funny, Harry. No, there have been a lot of loans made by some prominent families. Other things are being done on faith."

"I should do that," Harry said. He had tons of money in his vault. A donation to the Ministry would definitely help the war effort.

"I'm sure it would help."

Laine and Harry walked side by side in silence for a moment. The view from the battlements of the castle was simply astounding. The Scottish mountains and forests were picturesque, vivid natural colours that pierced deep to the soul.

"So I think yesterday's practice proves I need help if I want to make the team next year. Maybe you could show me a couple of moves."

Harry was sure his shirt collar must have constricted. He caught another possible meaning behind her innocent words about sport and suddenly felt very warm.

"Sure," he managed to say, not trusting himself with more than the single word.

"Ooh, fantastic!" she squealed. She hugged him briefly. "You're the best, Harry."

To conceal the fact that he couldn't form a coherant sentence, Harry opened the door that led to the way up to the trophy room. He turned left instead and they followed the corridor out to the central staircases.

Quite a few people were bustling about the castle. Harry and Laine made their way down side by side. They saw no one they knew or cared to converse with until they were in the dungeons again. Two of the first year girls were standing in the wrong part of the hall whispering the wrong password. When they spotted Harry's badge, they practically collapsed on the spot with relief.

"Mister Prefect, we can't get in the common room," said a girl with light brown skin and black hair. She wore her Hogwarts robes.

"My name is Harry."

"The password is 'mutiny', right?" asked the other girl, who had pale white skin and blonde hair.

"No," Harry replied, shaking his head. "It's 'unity'."

"Hah!" said the first girl. "I was right, Cissy!"

"Aww. I wanted it to be mutiny," Cissy said sadly. "It made me think of pirates, and I really like pirates."

"I'm sorry, Cissy," Harry said.

"Hey wait a minute," the blonde girl said sharply, her head snapping up. "If you just said the password, why didn't the wall open?"

"Very observant, Cissy. That would be because we're not in front of the door."

"Told you so, Patty!"

"It's a little further on. Follow me."

Harry led the little procession around the corner and stopped at an unassuming section of the wall.

"Unity."

The stone door slid back and out of the way. Into the common room and down the steps they went.

"Thanks, Harry."

"My pleasure, Patty. That's why we're here."

"You handled that rather well, Mister Prefect."

"Oh, cut it out, Laine. I'm sure they were just trying to be polite."

"Wait until I tell the others."

Prompted by his encounter with the first years, Harry sought them out in the common room after lunch.

"Hi, Mister Prefect!" said one of the two girls he'd helped. He couldn't remember if it was Cissy or Patty.

"Hello, first years," he said to them all. "How are you all?"

"This place is amazing!"

"So many rooms!"

"I love the common room!"

"I'm Harry," he said to remind them. "You don't have to call me Mister Prefect or sir or anything like that. Harry. Help me remember all of your names."

"I'm Cissy Moor," said the first girl. She had her blonde hair pulled back in a simple ponytail. "My cousin John is a seventh year Ravenclaw, and my sister Brenda is a second year."

Patty, the other firstie Harry had spoken with, had light brown skin and had let down her black hair from earlier. "My brother Roberto is in Hufflepuff. He's a seventh year too."

"I'm Fiona Dee," said a girl with brown, shoulder-length hair. "You might know my brother Zachary. He's four years out of Hogwarts. Slytherin, of course."

"Of course Slytherin," said another girl with brown hair. Hers was longer, reaching to her elbows. "My sister Mary was in that same year. I'm Wendy, by the way. Wendy Ashland."

"They're all very impressive, yes?" said the last girl. "Hullo, Harry. I'm Pam, and my sister Emma says hi."

"Emma?" Harry tried to think of who he knew named Emma. It was hard. He realized he knew quite a few people now.

"Bright yellow hair?"

"Emma!" How could Harry have been so daft? "Emma Ruthven, guitar player for Wand Smasher."

"The same." Pam smiled widely.

"How is she?"

"She's well. They went on tour last year and made a pile of Galleons. Now they've gone into another writing phase."

"Fantastic. Please send her my regards."

"I will."

"Done much exploring yet?"

"Some. We were about to head out and look around some more. We've got all this free time, so it only makes sense that we learn our way around when we don't have to worry about getting to a class."

"A very good idea," Harry agreed. "Well, I won't keep you then. Be safe."

"Bye!"

The first year girls departed the common room to navigate the castle. Harry wondered if they'd thought to invite the boys.

"Nah," Daphne said when he said it later. "Boys have ghoul pox."

* * *

That Sunday evening after dinner, Draco pulled Harry aside as they left the Great Hall. Daphne and Pansy followed out of curiosity. They went up one flight of stairs and turned down a side corridor.

"What is it, Draco?" Harry asked.

"Do you remember me telling you about the amazing room I found while I was staying at the castle over the summer? I want to show you."

"What room is this?" Pansy inquired.

"It appears to be a room that provides anything you ask for. I was up on the seventh floor, bored out of my mind. There's nothing to do around this place when you're by yourself, so I was wishing I could have someone to duel with at least. Well this door just appears out of nowhere and inside I found a whole bunch of training dummies, books full of hexes and counterhexes, everything we'd ever need to work our skills up a bit."

"Oh my goodness!" Daphne sounded astounded.

"I left, but then I wanted to go back in for one of the books. So I opened the door again, but I was thinking about reading in bed, and there in the middle of the room was a bed!"

"That's incredible," Pansy breathed.

"What else can it do?" Harry asked.

"I wanted to write a letter to Father, and a desk appeared, complete with parchment, ink, and quills."

"I wonder," Daphne said speculatively.

"Take us there at once, Draco," Pansy said.

They took a secret passage up to the fifth floor and then took a normal staircase up to the seventh. Draco stopped in front of a tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy being clubbed by trolls. It was a gruesome scene, the result of a foolish attempt to train trolls for the ballet, and Harry had never lingered up here.

Draco paced in front of the blank section of wall, turning sharply at the window just beyond and then back at the man-sized vase on its other side.

"We need a place to brew a potion," he muttered. "We need to brew a potion, and we can't go to the dungeons."

As he made his third pass, a highly polished door appeared in the wall.

"By Merlin," Pansy breathed.

Draco reached out, seized the brass handle, and opened the door for them. He bowed slightly as they walked in.

Harry couldn't believe his eyes. The room was almost exactly like Professor Snape's office. It was bigger, to be sure, with more shelves and more ingredients. One whole shelf was devoted to books with titles like _Brewing Beyond the N.E.W.T., Power Potions Proficiency,_ and _Moste Potente Potions_.

A rack to one side held an assortment of cauldrons. There was pewter, iron, steel, stone, copper, brass, silver, gold, platinum, and other materials Harry couldn't identify. There were small, medium, and large cauldrons. The whole lot was worth incalculable Galleons.

The centrepiece of the room was a commanding stone table. There was all the bench space one could ever ask for. A wooden block held dozens of knives. There was a firespot on the table and another on the floor.

"You could brew anything in this room." Harry was phenominally impressed.

"That's the idea."

"Quite a good find, Draco," Pansy admitted. "Maybe there might be some hope for you yet."

Draco said nothing, but he bowed rakishly.

"Oh, the uses we can put this room to," Daphne said, already chewing her lower lip in thought. "This is fantastic, Harry. You seem to be collecting secret rooms in this castle."


	10. Defence With Dolores

Monday morning came too early, as it always did. Despite going to bed at an entirely reasonable hour, the Slytherins always groused when the sun came up over the lake and through their picture window.

Harry woke up, reached for his glasses and his wand, which now had a place on his headboard. He cast the key to his Locking Hexes and pulled back the curtains. He slid his feet into his slippers, grabbed his bath things, and headed to the shower.

Once he was scrubbed clean and had brushed his teeth, he returned to the dorm to dress. He quickly donned a uniform shirt, vest, and trousers. He tied his tie with praticed ease. 

_I've got Potions and Herbology today. Best not to wear the good robes._

Harry picked up his comb and attempted to do something with his hair. Though it had calmed down some since he had started his Animagus training, Harry still had problems with his hair. The messy black mop often seemed like it had a mind of its own. When it was moody, it tenaciously resisted all efforts to tame it. Today though, it was cooperating.

"Comb it all forward," his enchanted mirror advised him, "then raise up your bangs with a little styling potion."

Following such advice would expose his scar for everyone to see. Harry hated it when people stared at his scar. It reminded them all of Voldemort, but it reminded Harry of the night he'd lost his parents. He never truly forgot, but sometimes he was able to not think about it.

"Thanks, Shoshi, but no thanks."

"I'm only telling you what will look best. Trust me to know. You'll only be sorry later."

Harry's Reflective Friend definitely had personality. He'd heard other mirrors talk, but Shoshi really was on a whole other level. She almost seemed like a real person at times. If she hadn't been so happy all the time, he might have suspected a trapped consciousness.

Once Harry and Draco were finished dressing, they went out to the common room. Before much longer, Pansy and Daphne emerged from the girls' dormitory. Tracy and Millie were hot on their heels.

"Let's go," Pansy said.

"Let's wait for Theo," Harry suggested.

"Good idea," Draco said.

It took quite some time. Blaise Zabini emerged first and came over to them. "Good morning, everybody."

"Hi, Zabini."

"Thanks for waiting for me."

"We weren't," Draco said shortly. "We're waiting on Theo."

"Notty was still getting dressed when I left."

"Thanks. We'll see you up at breakfast."

Zabini looked a bit shocked at being so abruptly dismissed, but he didn't further enflame the situation. He went up by himself.

"Tosser," Draco said as the wall closed.

They were starting to get restless very hungry when finally Theo walked out from the dorm at a snail's pace.

"Good morning, Theo," Draco said.

"Hey, Theo," said Harry.

Theo did not reply. He stood there and looked at them blankly.

"Ready for breakfast?"

Theo shrugged emptily.

"Well, let's go then."

Harry led the gang upstairs to the Great Hall, exchanging worried glances with Draco. If Theo's no-care attitude was going to extend to classes, would he be able to keep up with their assignments? O.W.L. year was brutal from all accounts. Could Theo hold it together?

"I still can't believe this schedule," Daphne complained at the table. "Three double lessons in one day? Three? After Defence we have D-Potions, lunch, D-Transfiguration, and D-Herbology. What are they trying to do to us?"

"Make us learn?" Harry quipped.

"Make us have nervous breakdowns, more like."

"We'll get through this. We should start making studying schedules."

"Sure, Tracy," Pansy said with exaggerated patience. "We'll get right on that."

"I'm serious. It is absolutely possible to do adequate studying and still get eight hours of sleep a night."

"If you say so," Pansy replied skeptically. "Let's go find out what Professor Umbridge is like."

Dolores Umbridge was a teacher unlike any they'd yet had for Defence Against the Dark Arts. She was not hard and grizzled like Professor Moody had been. She spoke confidently, unlike Professor Quirrell's stutturing façade. Nobody compared to Professor Lockhart. The only one who even came close to her was Professor Lupin, but there was something slightly off about her.

The woman loved the colour pink, and Harry thought her choice of clothes was obnoxious. Though she wore the standard black robe of a teacher, she left it open to let her pink clothes blind anyone within twenty feet. She had a pleasant smile seemingly permanently affixed to her face. She called the roll in a very business-like manner, not even pausing when she came to Harry's name, and tucked the scroll away in her handbag.

"Welcome to Defence Against the Dark Arts, fifth years," she said. "I am pleased to see you all here. There are two texts assigned for this class, which you should have purchased. This will be largely a practical course, but there is a strong academic portion as well."

Practical Defence? Harry exchanged glances with Draco. Fantastic. Ever since Professor Lupin had begun setting the curriculum straight, things had done nothing but improve.

"The most effective duellers know a wide variety of spells and the counters to them. Use of the proper counter is more elegant than a Protego shield, but most importantly, it uses far less energy. I will drill you on countercurses. Consider yourself warned."

Professor Moody had taught basic shielding, some general counterspells, and principles of magical combat, as well as throughly exposing them to the Unforgiveable Curses (one of them literally). Professor Umbridge sounded like she was going to continue along those lines. Harry started to grin.

_This year might be rather fun._

Professor Umbridge paused for a moment, smiling hugely. "There will also be a bit of a treat for you all this year. The practical portion of the class will be augmented by guest instruction from members of the Auror Corps."

Harry felt a surge of excitement. The Aurors were supposed to be some of the best of the best. To get any of that training, even if it might be at a slower pace, was a fantastic opportunity.

"Finally, I will be supervising the creation of a new extra-curricular organization, designed to help students hone their skills and techniques. You will be able to practice duelling and develop your full potential."

_A new Duelling Club?_

Things just got better and better. Harry decided instantly that he would sign up. He glanced at Draco again and saw similar anticipation on his face.

Umbridge gave a little "hem, hem" and looked around the room at each of them. Her grave expression grounded Harry's euphoria. When she had everyone's attention, she continued.

"Dark times have come again, and this subject will be your most important. The Ministry will need every wand to win the struggle against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. It is my job to make sure you are trained up properly to stand toe to toe with the Death Eaters when they come for you."

It seemed as though Professor Umbridge understood her job quite well, and she made no bones about it. She didn't try to disguise what was out there. In that way, she was again similar to Professor Moody. Neither one tried to sugarcoat it for the students. Harry felt his appreciation for Professor Umbridge go up a notch.

"Now then, please open the Odnol text to page seven. We will begin at the beginning."

Professor Umbridge lectured them about countercurses for the rest of the lesson. When the bell signaled the end of the session, Harry packed up his things and headed for the door with the others.

"Mister Potter, a moment, please?" Umbridge called out.

"I'll wait for you," Draco said.

"Thanks."

Harry headed up to the teacher's desk, wondering what the woman could possibly want.

"Yes, Professor?"

Umbridge had a very sober expression. Her lips were pursed, and she folded her hands together.

"Mister Potter, I must speak candidly with you. Are you planning to join my little duelling club?"

"Yes, Professor."

Umbridge was very pleased, judging from the small smile that appeared on her face.

"Excellent. I had hoped I wouldn't have to persuade you. I must ask you to pass the word among your fellow prefects that they must join."

"Must?"

"Yes, of course. Prefects patrol the corridors after curfew. What if you should encounter a Death Eater breaking into the castle?"

"I suppose we'd have to call for help."

"Indeed you would, Mister Potter, and it simply would not do for you to be killed while waiting for help to come. Wouldn't you agree?"

"I suppose that would be a bad thing. This club sounds like fun."

Professor Umbridge's eyes instantly turned inexorable. Wrath and fury were promised to him if he did not lose his levity.

"It is not 'fun', Mister Potter. It is deadly serious. The Dark Lord's followers are merciless. They will do Unforgiveable things, especially to you."

"Not if I do them first," he quipped.

Harry never had been able to hold his tongue, even while facing Voldemort. Umbridge could hardly intimidate him when her punishments consisted of points, lines, or detention.

Umbridge's attitude turned even colder, if such a thing were possible.

"It is no joking matter, Mister Potter."

"I know, Professor. Really, I do. I take Voldemort very seriously."

She winced as he said the name, though she tried to hide it. "Yes, well," she said, sounding a bit flustered. "I will be posting details of the club within the week. Now get to class."

Harry grinned as he walked from the classroom with a spring in his step. It wasn't often that he got a chance to be cheeky with a professor. Most of them would take points. He could really only get away with it if it were Snape or Vector, and they required a refined sort of cheek in order to be sufficiently amused. If all it took to fluster Umbridge was to say the forbidden name, then Harry would be sure to say it loudly and often during discussions.

Draco was waiting for him, as promised. Tracy was with him.

"What'd she want?" Draco asked curiously as they headed down to Potions lecture.

"She wanted to see if I planned on joining the Duelling Club."

"Small wonder why."

Harry grimaced. It would be a good marketing tactic to have it be known that the Boy-Who-Lived had signed up.

"I know. I'm being manipulated into lending my fame for this thing, but I guess there's nothing for it." Harry shook his head, torn between desperation and frustration. "I do want to join. It sounds like it'll be a great experience. Aurors teaching us duelling stuff? Sign me up, please."

"Yeah, me too," Draco said. "Always take advantage of offers like that."

"Agreed," Tracy said. "The more disciplines you study and master, the more powerful you become."

Harry wasn't interested in power, per se, but knowing how to duel would definitely help him fight Voldemort. The evil wizard had wanted to go through the motions of a duel that awful night in the courtyard of the old prison. Harry had played at duels with his friends, everyone as clumsy as he was. Voldemort was much more dangerous. Next time, Harry intended to be prepared.

"Where are the others?" Harry asked.

"Pansy and Daphne went to go gossip in the girls' room with Samantha and Veronica," Tracy replied. Her tone made it quite clear how she felt about their whispering.

"I hope they don't take too long. It's Potions next."

There was a queue lined up outside Snape's classroom door. Harry saw Ron Weasley leaning up against the wall. He'd grown like a weed over the summer. He probably stood about six inches taller than Harry now, and he was getting a bit stouter around the middle. He had his arms folded across his chest, and his disdain for the Slytherins was almost palpable. Harry ignored him. It was far too soon to start picking a fight with the prat. Most likely, if he only waited, Weasley would begin on his own.

The Weasel hated Slytherins with a passion only Gryffindor righteousness could ignite. The fact that he was wrong didn't matter in the slightest to him. All Slytherins were evil, and that's all there was to say as far as Weasley was concerned. Junior Death Eaters, every one of them.

_Nevermind that my parents were killed by Voldemort. No, that couldn't possibly matter at all._

Pansy and Daphne came running up, giggling depite their shortness of breath. Tracy tried to keep her expression neutral, but Harry knew her well enough to recognize how silly she thought the pair was.

The wooden door creaked ominously as it opened to let them in. Several of the Gryffindors jumped as the Slytherins rolled their eyes. They all filed inside and sat down. The benches in this laboratory were configured for individual workstations.

Harry walked down to the front of the room and put his bag on the first bench. Draco took the place nearest him, raising one eyebrow curiously in Harry's direction.

"Settle down," said Snape coldly, shutting the door behind them. 

There was no real need for the call to order; the moment the class had heard the door close, quiet had fallen and all fidgeting stopped. Snape's mere presence was usually enough to ensure a class's silence. 

"Before we begin today's lesson," said Snape, sweeping over to his desk and staring around at them all, "I think it appropriate to remind you that next June you will be sitting an important examination, during which you will prove how much you have learned about the composition and use of magical potions. Moronic though some of this class undoubtedly are, I expect you to scrape an 'Acceptable' in your OWL, or suffer my _displeasure_." 

His gaze lingered on Neville Longbottom, who gulped. 

"After this year, of course, many of you will cease studying with me," Snape went on. "I take only the very best into my NEWT Potions class, O-level students, which means that some of us will certainly be saying goodbye." 

His eyes rested this time on Ron Weasley, and his lip curled. "Weasley, where may one find a bezoar?"

Snape never forgot anything, and he'd needled Weasley about bezoars on the first day of class in their first two years. They'd never found out from the red-haired Gryffindor.

"From the stomach of a goat, sir," Weasley replied.

"Correct. It certainly took you long enough. What season is best for findng Ashwinder eggs?"

Weasley gave a strangled gasp. "I don't know, sir," he said through clenched teeth.

"Yes, some of us will undoubtedly be bidding us farewell," said Snape softly, "but there is another long year until that happy day. Whether or not you are intending to attempt NEWT, I advise all of you to concentrate your efforts upon maintaining the high pass level I have come to expect from my OWL students. 

"Today we will be mixing a potion that often comes up at the Ordinary Wizarding Level: the Draught of Peace, a potion to calm anxiety and soothe agitation. Be warned: if you are too heavy-handed with the ingredients you will put the drinker into a heavy and sometimes irreversible sleep, so you will need to pay close attention to what you are doing. The ingredients and method," Snape said with a flick of his wand, "are on the blackboard." The writing on the board revealed itself. "You will find everything you need in the store cupboard," he continued and flicked his wand again. The door of the said cupboard sprang open. "You have an hour and a half. Start." 

There was little time for idle chatter, not that Snape ever tolerated much of that in his class. He had set them a very difficult, fiddly potion. The ingredients had to be added to the cauldron in precisely the right order and quantities; the mixture had to be stirred exactly the right number of times, firstly in clockwise, then in anti-clockwise directions; the heat of the flames on which it was simmering had to be lowered to exactly the right level for a specific number of minutes before the final ingredient was added.

Harry was not used to brewing potions on his own. He had always worked with either Tracy or Draco. They were both very good and had taught him a lot. Harry enjoyed brewing, but the prospect of doing it himself made him slightly nervous. He took a deep breath and began to measure out powdered moonstone with a steady hand. He knew could do this if he just put his mind to it. Harry had read all about it last night. He made sure to copy down the instructions on a parchment that he pinned to the wooden cabinet.

The next hour passed with a blur of activity. There were a lot of ingredients and they all required precise preparation. There was not enough time to get everything ready before starting to brew, so he had to prepare the latter things on the go. The trick was knowing which things could be easily done and which would require more care.

Sweat dripped down his face from the heat, the stress, and the fast pace he was working at. He wished he had time to wipe his brow, but he needed to add the next ingredient. He brushed off the balance pan and began to weigh out dried dandelion stems. He pointed his wand at his mortar and pestle.

" _Evanesco!_ "

He carefully transferred the dried stems to the now pristinely clean vessel and began to grind them to a fine powder. It wouldn't do to contaminate the component with things that might shift the potion's reaction out of whack.

"A light silver vapour should now be rising from your potion," called Snape, with ten minutes left to go. 

The surface of Harry's potion was a shimmering mist of silver vapour. He smiled, very satisfied with his efforts. Draco had done it right as well, as had Tracy and Theo. Pansy's mist was not silver but dull brown. That wasn't good. He spared a glance around to see how everyone else was faring.

Finnigan was feverishly prodding the flames at the base of his cauldron with the tip of his wand, as they seemed to be going out. Weasley's was spitting green sparks, and it was here that Professor Snape stopped. He looked down at the contents of Weasley's cauldron with a horrible smirk on his face. 

"Weasley, what is this supposed to be?" 

The Slytherins at the front of the class all looked up eagerly; they loved hearing Snape taunt Weasley. 

"The Draught of Peace," said Weasley tensely. 

"Tell me, Weasley," said Snape softly, "can you read?" 

Draco laughed. 

"Yes, I can," said Weasley, his fingers clenched tightly around his wand. 

"Read the third line of the instructions for me, Weasley." 

Weasley squinted at the blackboard; to be fair, it was not easy to make out the instructions through the haze of multi-colored steam now filling the dungeon. There was a reason the Slytherins always sat at the front of the class.

"'Add powdered moonstone, stir three times anti-clockwise, allow to simmer for seven minutes then add two drops of syrup of hellebore.'" 

"Which direction do you stir the potion, Weasley?"

"Anti- anti-clockwise, sir." He was deathly pale.

"Which way did you stir it?"

"C- clockwise, sir."

"I beg your pardon?" 

"Clockwise, sir."

"How many times did you stir it?"

"T-three, sir."

"Are you sure, Weasley? Are you really sure of that?"

There was a dreadful silence. You could have heard a pin drop.

"No, sir."

Professor Snape smiled, and it was a scary sight to see. Weasley shivered, as though the temperature had suddenly dropped.

"I know that, Weasley, which means that this mess is utterly worthless. _Evanesco_." 

The contents of Weasley's cauldron vanished. 

"Those of you who have managed to read the instructions, fill one flagon with a sample of your potion, label it clearly with your name and bring it up to my desk for testing," said Snape. "Homework: twelve inches of parchment on the properties of moonstone and its uses in potion making, to be handed in on Thursday." 

Harry tried not to smirk as he transfered an aliquot of his potion to a flagon. Professor Snape really hated Gryffindors and incompetence. Neville Longbottom's had achieved the consistency of just-mixed cement, and he was now having to gouge it out of his cauldron. Weasley would hardly get a worse mark than him.

It wasn't just Gryffindors who had failed either.

There was a small explosion, and Goyle's flagon shattered. "Bugger!" shouted Goyle as the arm of his robe caught on fire. Tracy was quick with her Water Blast Charm, but the robe was ruined. Even if the burn could be repaired, the smell of smoke would never come out.

"All right?" Harry asked.

"Yeah. It didn't get me."

"Lucky. Pay more attention."

Everyone else marched up to Snape's desk with filled and corked flagons. When at long last the bell rang, everyone hurried out of the dungeons and up to the Great Hall for lunch.

"Well, that was fun," Draco said.

"Loads," agreed Harry. "Though I don't know if I care so much for this working by myself bit."

"Makes sense. You don't have a partner during the practical either."

"This is true. Oh well. Time to find out how good I really am."

"Better than Weasley. I've never seen him so fit to be tied. It was beautiful."

Blaise Zabini, the returned Slytherin, cleared his throat. "Weasley hasn't changed a bit, I see. I did rather think he might have learned a thing or two since first year."

"We keep trying to teach him," Draco replied. "He just keeps forgetting. I'm sure it's because he was dropped on his head quite often as a child. It's the first day back, and already I'm tired of him. This is not going to be a pleasant year."

"He's nothing but a braggart," Harry said. "Every time it comes to wands or blows, he loses, yet he keeps instigating. It's extremely puzzling."

"The trouble being, Hair," Blaise said, "that the more people hear something said by a loud mouth, the more they believe it."

"That's right, frog." Draco considered the new-old Slytherin for a moment. "How would you go about taking care of him? Teach him a lesson, then?"

"I'd dare him to enter a vampire's lair at dusk and switch his wand with a Transfigured baguette before he went in," Blaise said without missing a beat.

"Wow," Draco said after a moment. "That's twisted. You do that to some chap? Is that why you came back? Get tossed out by the snooty French?"

"I'm here, Dray, because Mother had a falling out with Madame Maxime."

"Stop calling me that ridiculous name. What sort of falling out?"

"What does it matter, Dray? Mother pulled me out in protest. She's rather fond of that, you might recall. It was that incident with the mountain troll that made her transfer me to Beauxbatons in the first place."

"So what are you doing back? It's not like this place has gotten any safer. Just ask Harry."

Zabini shot Harry an inquisitive glance.

"Basilisks, dementors, Death Eaters, dragons; the list goes on."

"Sounds like I've missed some exciting times."

The ceiling had turned an even murkier grey during the morning. Rain was lashing the high windows. Despite the foul weather, Harry found himself somewhat cheerful.

"Hey, Sam! Have a seat for a minute."

"Sure, Harry. What's up?"

"We had Professor Umbridge this morning, and she had an announcement to make. She's going to bring back the Duelling Club."

"The Duelling Club? Fantastic."

"All prefects have to join. We might need to defend the students."

"Reasonable. Remember when Professor Snape taught all the prefects to do the Patronus Charm? He said anyone who couldn't do it would be replaced."

"He meant it too."

"He did. This is no different. I'll spread the word."

"There should be an official announcement made soon."

"Very good. I'll spread it around. Thanks."

After quickly devouring some sliced chicken and cucumber sandwiches, they hurried along to the Transfiguration classroom. They sat down and readied quills and parchment, awaiting Professor McGonagall who also felt it necessary to remind her students of the examination at the end of the school year.

"These tests are the most important you have yet faced. Your results will directly impact which subjects you will be permitted to continue studying here at Hogwarts. Only those who achieve Outstanding or Exceeds Expectations will be allowed to attempt NEWT Transfiguration. You cannot pass an OWL," she went on grimly, "without serious application, practice and study. I see no reason why everybody in this class should not achieve an OWL in Transfiguration as long as they put in the work."

Goyle, who was pants at Transfiguration, groaned slightly.

"Yes, Mister Goyle, even you. If you would only apply yourself-" She shook her head, dismissing her tangent. "See me after class, Mister Goyle. We'll work out a plan for you."

"Rum luck," Draco said in an undertone to Harry.

"Today we are starting Vanishing Spells. These are easier than Conjuring Spells, which you would not usually attempt until NEWT level, but they are still among the most difficult magic you will be tested on in your OWL."

Harry felt Professor McGonagall was overselling it quite a bit. To his delight, he was able to do it at once. It was effortless. Somehow his wand moved of its own accord in the proscribed pattern. He got the ennunciation exactly right, and his snail vanished from sight.

"What's this? Excellent, Mister Potter. Ten points to Slytherin for a masterful first effort."

"Well done, Harry," Draco whispered. "Show me how it's done."

Professor McGonagall's eyes lingered on Harry for a moment or two longer than he was comfortable with. He turned away and corrected Draco's grip on his wand.

By the end of the lesson, Harry was the only one who had successfully done the task, though Draco had come close, and he was the only one not given homework.

"Unfair," Draco hissed. "I almost had it."

"You still had half your snail."

The Herbology lesson was held in Greenhouse Two, which was an even more interesting place than where they'd been last year. This greenhouse was commonly kept locked and chained just to make it really clear how off-limits it was.

During the last year, Harry and Padma had often worked together in Herbology, Slytherin's shared class with Ravenclaw. Now that they were broken up, Harry would need to find a new partner. Theo had often worked alone last year. Now Harry put his bag on the same table. Draco and Daphne sat down with them as well.

Theo looked up with those empty eyes of his. Harry tried to supress his crawling flesh at how very Not There his friend was. Theo looked back down at his hands in his lap.

Pansy and Terry still worked with Goyle and Mandy Brocklehurst. Crabbe, Millie, and Tracy were joined by Zabini. Padma, Harry noticed, was working with Anthony Goldstein.

"Welcome to Greenhouse Two, fifth years," Professor Sprout said cheerfully. "If you thought you worked hard last year, you haven't seen anything yet. The sheer variety of botany is all fair game on the OWL. You'll likely need to memorize your textbook, if you haven't already."

"There's no new text, but I'll expect you to take detailed notes. This year we cover some plants that are _really_ dangerous. Knowing how to identify and protect yourself from the plants in this greenhouse will be a major part of our new curriculum this year. Professor Dumbledore thinks it's wise to study as many ways to fight the war unconventionally as we can. For example, what did we study in second year that could be a very potent offensive weapon? Yes, Mister Boot."

"Mandrakes, Professor. The cry of the mature Mandrake is fatal to those who hear it. The cries of immature Mandrakes can incapacitate people or drive them away."

"Well done. Five points to Ravenclaw."

Terry cast a smug expression towards Theo, but he was facing the wrong direction. Terry settled for smirking at Draco and Harry. It seemed that the rivalry was starting up without pause. Draco waited until Sprout's back was turned and flashed him a crude hand gesture.

"Today we'll be talking about the identifying features of the Man-Eating Snapdragon. Now I have a fine speciman here behind the chain-link fence. Go on and take a good look."

They took careful notes for one half of the double lesson and spent the other half in Greenhouse Seven replanting Flutterby bushes, which Professor Sprout assured them would come up on the O.W.L..

"For homework I want you all to write two scrolls of parchment on the Snapdragons. Be sure to include ways of subduing them."

Harry tried not to groan. Two scrolls of parchment? Yuck! Tired and smelling strongly of dragon dung, Professor Sprout's preferred type of fertilizer, the Slytherins tromped down to the dungeons to bathe and prepare for dinner.

"Start every assignment the night it's due so you get a rough idea of how long it'll take you to complete," Palce recommended.

They took that advice to hand and hurried up to the library right after dinner to get going on their first essays of what promised to be a great many more. Being excused by McGonagall was a stroke of luck, and he used the extra time to get his Herbology assignment in order. They worked until minutes before curfew and ran for the dorm. Instead of heading to bed, they set up again in the common room and got another couple of hours of studying done before turning in.

* * *

**UMBRIDGE REVIVES DUELLING CLUB**

by Rita Skeeter

When Hogwarts last had a duelling club, it was the brainchild of disgraced celebrity Gilderoy Lockhart who got blasted arse over teakettle by Professor Severus Snape, Head of Slytherin House, at the first and only meeting. The students also saw a spectacular display by Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy (then 2nd Slytherins). Malfoy summoned a snake and Lockhart foolishly jumped in and made the snake mad. The fangs were nearly descending on a Muggleborn student, Hufflepuff's Justin Finch-Fletchly, when Potter revealed one of his gifts to us and employed Parseltongue to save the boy's life. It is perhaps the first instance of the traditionally Dark talent to be used for good. If anyone could do it, it would be our Harry.

Professor Umbridge announced last night that the Ministry was directing the reformation of the duelling club, and we hope that no such mishaps will take place while a qualified instructor is in charge. The goal of the club is to give students a place to hone battle spells in safety and with proper instruction.

"Many students feel helpless being here at school while their families are at risk. Here at Hogwarts we are safe, but many of our society are exposed with improper protections and safeguards in place. I urge everyone to read the Ministry pamphlets and implement the advice therein. With the formation of this youth club, students will have a place to work out their feelings. They will be able to practice, to be able to feel like they _are_ doing something to help."

Asked about the new club, school governor Lucius Malfoy, 41, of Wiltshire, had this to say: "Everyone who can must fight, for we struggle against a Darkness so absolute that it would murder children. It will take all of our goodness, all of our righteousness to combat this evil. It begins with good solid practice. The governors support this new club to the fullest."  
  
---  
  
* * *

Tuesday morning came too soon, and it looked to be just as intense a day as Monday. Arithmancy followed by three double lessons. Harry groaned. Right after lunch was double History. Even though Harry liked History, he hated having it on a full stomach. Binns was so boring he could put a brick to sleep.

"Welcome to OWL year Arithmancy, fifth years," Professor Vector said brightly. "This year we are going to dive right into algebra. If you did the required reading, you should be well-prepared to do so. We will study new material until Christmas, and after the New Year, we will begin a comprehensive review of all material covered thus far."

Oh joy. Review. Well, at least there was only new stuff for half the year. It would be interesting to see how much of the old stuff he had retained.

"There is a significant written portion to the examination, and you will have to solve many equations and write many proofs. It is a long road, but a rewarding one for those who achieve OWL. In the NEWT-level, we will begin a study of the wonderful world of trigonometry and calculus, wherein we will apply all of the concepts of geometry and algebra we have discussed. This is where it gets fun."

Harry had heard the seventh-years bemoaning the topic of calculus and wondered how their teacher could promise them something so awful with such a perfectly happy smile.

"Let us begin by discussing equations with multiple variables."

They struggled through Arithmancy and headed to Defence where Professor Umbridge continued her lesson about countercurses. She assigned them an essay on basic wand maintenance.

"Excuse me, Professor," Pansy said.

"Do raise your hand, Miss Parkinson."

"Sorry, ma'am." Pansy raised her hand.

"Yes, dear?"

"I don't understand the nature of the essay. What has wand polish got to do with Defence?"

"Well it's quite simple, really. Your wand is your most important tool. Given time and ingredients, a wizard can brew a potion to do just about anything, but the wand is what truly releases our direct magic. The power to summon or banish, to conjure or curse, is all possible because of the wand. It's why the Ministry snaps the wands of convicted criminals. A wand that is lost or misplaced has a way of returning to its master. Such a valuable object should be cared for, wouldn't you say?"

"Well, yes."

"Then knowing how to keep your wand in top form is a matter of personal security. One roll, if you please."

Harry ate a light lunch. Maybe if he didn't stuff himself, like he saw Weasley doing at the Gryffindor table, he would be able to pay attention through History of Magic. Nevertheless, as he'd feared, Harry couldn't help but doze as Professor Binns moved on from goblin wars to the giant wars. At least if he slept in class, Harry thought drowsily, he'd be able to stay up later at night and be productive.

The last class of the day was their first incidence of Charms, and it was a double lesson. Harry generally enjoyed his time here. Professor Flitwick had always treated him quite fairly.

"What you must remember," said little Professor Flitwick squeakily perched as ever on a pile of books so that he could see over the top of his desk, "is that these examinations may influence your futures for many years to come! If you have not already given serious thought to your careers, now is the time to do so. In the meantime, I'm afraid, we shall be working harder than ever to ensure that you all do yourselves justice!"

They then spent over an hour reviewing Summoning Charms, which according to Professor Flitwick were bound to come up in their O.W.L., and he rounded off the lesson by setting them their largest ever amount of Charms homework.

At least Harry was able to handle the Summoning Charm without a problem. When he was able to demonstrate the Charm on the first go, he earned ten points for Slytherin and was exempted from the homework.

"That's twice now, you bloody sod," Draco railed as they headed back to the dorm.

"I needed my broom in the first task," Harry said with a shrug of his shoulders. "What do you want from me?"

"I want you to do some of this homework all the rest of us have to do."

Harry laughed. "Even more work? No thanks."

"Somehow I thought you'd say that."

* * *

On Wednesday, the schedule eased up a bit. Those who weren't taking Divination were able to skip first period. Harry joined the others in the common room as they used the time to their advantage. They only had a single Charms lesson before lunch, then in Transfiguration, McGonagall collected their homework about Vanishing Spells and assigned them another long essay about the Inanimatus Conjurus Spell. Wednesday was also Astronomy day. They had a normal lesson to round off their classes, but they also had a full lesson that night up on the Tower.

Thursday was another day to sleep in, but of course they didn't. Double Muggle Studies was a class no Slytherin took, but the so-called "free" was the perfect time to get homework completed. In Ancient Runes, Professor Babbling began them on Celtic symbols. After the new year, they would also begin to review the Futhark runes and derivatives they had already studied. The O.W.L.s would require translation and the building of runic structures.

Lunch was followed by double Arithmancy and a splitting headache that put him in a foul mood for double Potions where their moonstone essays were due. Snape stood at the front of the room and watched as each student deposited a scroll on his desk. He took the opportunity to frown at many of them.

"I have the results of your Draughts of Peace from our last meeting. I'm pleased to announce that four were made perfectly. Forty points to Slytherin for the fine efforts of Mister Malfoy, Mister Potter, Mister Nott, and Miss Greengrass. Everyone else will write an essay about the Draught to be turned in next session. Now, turn your attention to the board. Moonstone, as you should know all about from your assignment is commonly used in what sort of potions, Greengrass?"

Professor Snape's questions could earn or lose a great many points. Before long, Slytherin had earned a quick thirty. Harry had to be sharp and on his toes. Thinking with a headache was righteously difficult. Thankfully that was the last class of the day.

All in all, the first week back was a bit of a shocker. The number of double lessons, coupled with the quantity of homework assignments, was exhausting. The staggering amount of work and study being required of them was intimidating. It was as though each teacher thought they were only going to be taking one of the tests \- theirs - and were trying to cram the whole of the discipline into each of their heads.

Friday night, normally a time to relax, was now anything but calming. It hadn't taken long to accept that every available minute should be devoted to academic study. There would be a few hours allotted over the weekend for recreation (in order to maintain top mental acuity), but otherwise it was all essays and charts and diagrams and translations. The fifth years were awake just as late as the rest of the house, but they were in their dorms with their noses in the books.

Saturday morning, normally a time to sleep in, was now anything but restful. The alarm went off at the same time as on a weekday. They still showered and ate a quick breakfast as they headed up to the library to read up for their Transfiguration.

Lunch was also brief. Harry was glad to talk of anything but Inanimatus Conjurus, but all too soon the books were calling him back. Tracy didn't even look up from her reading and ate one-handed.

They returned to the library until dinner, this time going over Astronomy and Arithmancy. Harry was reviewing his notes on the moons of Jupiter.

Thinking of Astronomy made him think about the moon. It would be full tonight. Moony and Padfoot would be racing around in that room in the basement, chasing and playing. Harry keenly missed his almost-uncles. He'd finally been allowed to run with his father's old pack, yet he couldn't leave school. Well, he might change into the mongoose and escape off the grounds, but London was much too far to Apparate. By the time he got there, the sun would have gone down anyway, but just because he couldn't be there in person (in mongoose?) didn't mean he couldn't be there in spirit. He would run in the night because he could.

Harry secured himself behind his curtains and pulled out the magic mirror that let him talk to his godfather.

"Sirius Black!"

"Harry Potter!"

"Hi, Sirius."

"Harry, is everything well?"

"Yes. I won't stay long. I know what tonight is. I just wanted to say hi. Tell Moony I'm thinking of him. I wish I could be there with you guys."

"I'll tell him, Harry, but we were just about to head to the basement. I'm sorry, but-"

"It's fine, Padfoot. Go. I'll catch you up later."

"Good night, Harry."

"Good night."

Harry left the shelter of the dormitory, bringing along his invisibility cloak for the morning, when he would have to get back to the dungeons unseen. He ambled along the corridor, hurrying along a couple of fourth year Ravenclaws who were being a little too public with their display of affection.

The hour grew later, and the full moon rose over the horizon. Harry watched it from his perch in a window nook. With a thought, he transformed.

The world always exploded on him with a rushing suddenness whenever he changed. The scents, the sounds, and the sensations were all overwhelming. He blinked several times and shook himself out.

_I'm thinking of you, Moony._

Harry set off at a brisk trot. The suits of armour were truly towering from this perspective. He encountered several ghosts, including Ravenclaw's Grey Lady, but they paid him no mind.

Harry practiced darting from shadow to shadow. His mongoose had a very long jump, and he could spring in the air a fair amount as well. He made his way up the next passageway and turned left towards some unused classrooms.

His sharpened hearing picked up the sound of students out of bounds. From the sound of things, Harry didn't want to disturb them, especially not as a prefect, so he hurried on his way.

A lot of students went and did that sort of thing at least once in awhile. Harry knew the mechanics from one of Sirius' many talks, and he'd been curious about girls ever since he'd first heard Elan Malfoy talk about kissing Jamie Davis. Nobody he knew was bragging about sex, though from the many stories Sirius told, they probably were just not talking about it.

As a fifth year, Harry himself was considered an older student. That didn't mean, Sirius had cautioned him, that he had to go out and start shagging anything that moved. All it meant, he had continued, was that he was of an age where the occasional roll in the hay happened for those who felt it was right for them. If it happened for Harry, terrific. If not, then it would happen later, when it was time.

Was that couple behind the door in love? Harry hoped so, even if it was for a very short period of time. Feelings came and went, hearts could be broken and mended, but Harry had learned from the adults in his life that physical intimacy was cheap and meaningless without love.

Harry didn't know much about love and girls firsthand. He'd snogged a bit with Padma, nothing more than some kissing and cuddling. He'd never taken her anywhere with the intention of more.

He'd lost track of how many of his female friends had kissed him and was downright astounded. He liked all of them, each in her own way. It was impossibly hard to decide on just one to ask out.

What criteria should he use? If he'd met the love of his life, wouldn't he know it by now? So was this a question of how to fill time? Because he didn't want to hurt any of his friends by leading them on. Or did he even know what true love would feel like and needed to experiment in order to discover it?

Going for the prettiest one like Sirius had advised hadn't worked, but that plan had never been about finding love, only about apporting one's self with style. Padma certainly had fulfilled that and more. They'd looked stunning together at the Yule Ball.

His friendship with Tracy was starting to recover from her crush on him. She could be around him now and not be wistful and sappy. It was good to have her back. He'd missed her brain during the Triwizard Tournament. Harry hadn't wanted to risk the closest thing he'd ever had to a sister by getting romantic with her, but she'd been stubborn. Now it seemed she was coming around, and Harry couldn't be happier for her good timing. He knew he was going to need her in the fight against Voldemort.

Harry jumped up and perched in a window. The moon was very large tonight. According to Professor Sinistra, it was an atmospheric illusion and had absolutely no effect on magic. The position of the moon could, of course, and any magicks performed under the full light would be amplified. Certain other phases affected specific branches of magic for reasons that still made his head hurt with the maths of it all, but the full moon graced all. Conversely, nearly all magic was weakened during the new moon. Nearly. Certain Dark rituals required the cover of complete darkness.

How many of those Dark rituals had Voldemort performed in order to become so powerful? Yet Harry supposedly was equal to him and had a power he did not. The thought was a little frightening. Everyone did seem to have a comment or two about how Harry exceeded their expectations. He knew a great many charms and spells that most wizards his age did not. Granted he had been in need of such teachings. The hand of prophecy at play, perhaps?

He was exercising one of his many powers at this very moment. The Animagus Transfiguration was one of the most complicated bits of magic ever, and Harry had mastered it. He jumped down from the window and ran off up the hall.

Harry turned the corner and lurched to a halt. His hackles went up, his tail went bushy, and he held back a warning chitter. It was Mrs. Norris, the dust-coloured mop of a cat owned by the Squib caretaker Filch.

Mrs. Norris reared back. Harry knew she would be confused, having never encountered a mongoose before, and who knew how well the old fleabag reacted to new situations? She hissed sharply, and one paw reared back ready to strike, claws fully extended.

Harry kept himself low and tensed. He hadn't planned on this. He didn't really want to get into a fight, but he couldn't change back into a human, or she'd fetch Filch.

With a yowl, she tried to claw at him. Faster than a flash, he jumped back out of the way and then forward immediately. He bit at her face, trying to intimidate more than injure. His teeth clacked together in front of her, and he backed off just as she clawed at him again.

"Ick-ick-ick!" Harry chittered.

Mrs. Norris growled warily, but she did not move forward. Harry advanced one step, and the growls went up in pitch. He jumped out of the way again as she tried to scratch his eyes out.

This was really getting to be not fun at all. Harry dashed away from Mrs. Norris so quickly that she didn't spring after him for a couple of seconds. That headstart enabled him to get down the corridor and up the stairs in the entrance hall. He jumped on to a moving staircase and turned back in triumph to the fuming Mrs. Norris, who continued to hiss and spit at him. When the grinding stone came to a halt, she turned back up the corridor. Harry knew he'd be playing tag with her all night. He wondered if he'd run into Filch.

Harry decided to give the castle a rest and pattered down to the dungeons. There was plenty of space to run around down here. He ran from the stairs to the Potions classroom to the dorm back to the stairs and around and around. He curled up in front of the Potions lab to rest.

He was a bit tired, but there was no way he was going to change back to a boy a moment sooner than he had to. He'd had a blast running around the castle, but all the wonderous variety of new and interesting odors was not enough to distract him from one simple realization. He missed Moony and Padfoot. The smell of the great dog, the scent of the crazed wolf, a smidge of madness on the musk were as familiar to him as his own.

Even after being together only twice during the summer, it still mattered tremendously to Harry that he'd been accepted into the little Marauders club. Though he still lacked a name, he felt like one of them. He felt closer to them, and through them his dad. Harry wished deep down in his heart of hearts that Voldemort had never happened and his parents could have raised him. Then Prongs would be running with them too. If there was no Voldemort, there might even be Wormtail too.

But he missed Moony and Padfoot.


	11. Yes, My Captain!

On Monday morning, Professor Snape passed the word that all the Slytherin prefects were to report to him in his office before dinner. Six people made a cramped fit in the small room.

"Thank you for coming. I won't keep you long. I know the first prefect meeting is after dinner, and I will give you the same admonishment I give all prefects every year. You are representatives of our noble and glorious house. Remember your image. Accord yourselves with dignity and decorum. With the return of the Dark times, there will be many who wish to impune us by association. Do not let them."

"We won't, sir," Bletchley promised.

"Good. Dismissed. Dinner awaits."

Up in the Great Hall, Harry and Pansy sat with Draco and Daphne who had saved them seats. He took a large helping of roast chicken.

"What did Snape want?" Draco asked.

"Just some prefect stuff. He wanted to make sure we remember to protect the interests of the house."

"Ah hah. Well, you'll do that anyway."

"He's just being diligent."

"He's a good Head of House. So anyway, you were going to show me about Vanishing those mice. How do you manage to get all this Transfiguration junk on the first try?"

"It's easy, Draco. I'll find you after the prefects meeting."

After dinner, Harry, Pansy, David, Sam, Heather, and Miles lingered at the table as the rest of the house descended to the dungeons. The Slytherin prefects headed up to the third floor and opened a door that never opened. Harry had thought it was an ordinary wall just pretending. He frowned in confusion. This wasn't the same room he'd seen once in third year.

But yet it was. The lavish, ornate design of the room seemed very royal. It was done in shades of purple. Up towards the ceiling, the walls were decorated with small, silver-framed portraits of all the prefects that had come before, with large gold ones to indicate a Head Boy or Girl.

Old-fashioned carved wood was the primary material of the room. Shelves around the walls were filled with hundreds of leather-bound books. These were shiny and new, unlike the dusty tomes in the library. 

There were two tiers of seats, almost like Quidditch stands. Each side was decorated with banners and bunting in the house colours. Thick arm chairs, three to a tier, looked more like thrones with big footstools to make sure the prefects were comfortable.

At one corner of the ground level were two chairs and a table for the Head Boy and Girl. They had a gavel. Cedric Diggory and Alicia Spinnet were already hard at work as the Slytherins arrived.

The Hufflepuffs were right on their heels. They took the seats on Slytherin's left. The Gryffindors arrived next and sat on the benches opposite Slytherin. The Ravenclaws were the last to enter and went to their designated place.

Padma glared daggers at Harry as she swept past him. She turned to Goldstein, laughed at something he said, and laid a hand on his arm. Harry felt his stomach drop. Already? A month and a week or so had passed since he had broken up with Padma. Five weeks. They'd been together for seven months. Harry realized it was actually quite some time. Was it time for him to move on as well?

Diggory banged his gavel three times. "This first official meeting of the Hogwarts prefect council is hereby called to order, Head Boy Cedric Diggory and Head Girl Alicia Spinnet presiding. Let the record show that all prefects are present."

"So noted," Alicia said, setting up a charmed quill to take the minutes.

"Good. First on the agenda: use of magic in the halls. This is a regular complaint from Mister Filch, who has already had to clean up the evidence of unauthorized duels and spellwork. I expect you all to keep magic out of the corridors. I especially mean the Slytherins and the Gryffindors."

"I object to that remark," Bletchley said, rising to his feet.

"The chair recognizes the prefect from Slytherin," Spinnet said.

"The Head Boy's editorial remark is made without proper introduction of evidence. He has brought no numbers, no figures to support his claim that more than fifty-one percent of class-to-class transitional magical altercations involve my house or your own, Head Girl, let alone both of them together. Furthermore, since I _have_ requested those numbers, I know that they do not support his outrageous claim. I demand that the Head Boy's comment be stricken from the record and that he be made to apologize for his thoughtless and unsubstantiated generalization."

"I second that," all of the upper year Slytherins said together.

"Oh for Merlin's sake, you all know it's true!" said Lee Jordan of Gryffindor.

"The chair does not recognize the gentleman from Gryffindor," Diggory said, trying desperately to keep things from disintegrating further. "If the gentleman from Slytherin will agree to table his motion until such evidence can be obtained from Mister Filch-"

"Tell old Filch we want him to fill out his paperwork better!" Bletchley retorted. "Check the figures, please, before you go creating rumours with your editorials."

"Are you quite through, Miles?"

"You're the one who wanted order. I've been entirely procedural about this. If we really are all equals in here, then I don't think it's right that any house's good name is impuned without evidence. It was bad enough before the world all went to hell, but now things are real. There are real consequences. If you can't substantiate your claims, innocent people could get hurt. I will not see any of you bring harm to the children in my great house. Evidence, mate. I want evidence. Is not one of the common rights of an Englishman that of being innocent until proven guilty?"

"All right, that's enough, Miles," Diggory said, banging his gavel. "No more grandstanding."

"Grandstanding?" Miles even managed to sound outraged. "Standing up for my rights is now somehow inappropriate?"

"You are no longer recognized," Diggory said. "You made your point. I'm sorry you can't take a little pointed criticism. Magic in the corridors between classes is against the rules, and _all_ students are expected to follow it. There are going to be plenty of appropriate venues to work on spellwork this year. The Charms Club is actively recruiting. I hear they're going to have a guest come in from the Experimental Committee."

"Plus there's Professor Umbridge's new Duelling Club," Spinnet added. "I was talking with her today about it, and she's going to be bringing in some Aurors as guest instructors."

That was interesting news. Honestly, it was welcome news as well. Harry thought Professor Umbridge seemed a bit too, well, nice to be a Defence teacher. He couldn't imagine her drawing a wand on anyone. He'd sort of assumed that she would be really good on the theory to get them the best grounding in making the spell work and then letting them do it while not actually doing it herself.

"Seek the floor," said Roger Davies, seventh-year from Ravenclaw.

"Granted," said Diggory.

"Am I the only one in this council who is concerned about what Professor Umbridge has proposed for the NEWT-level Defence course? It's the bleeding Auror first year curriculum! We're being trained for war! They want to make soldiers out of us! They want us to march off and get killed! Is every single student at this school going to duel with Death Eaters?"

"Yes!" Harry said suddenly. "Seek the floor?"

"The chair recognizes the gentleman from Slytherin."

Harry got to his feet. He felt a bit nervous; he hadn't intended to speak up at his first meeting, but sometimes you didn't get to make your choices.

"What is the purpose of school? To educate children, to train them, to impart to them the knowledge and skills that they will need in order to survive in the real world once they finish school and leave home. Well guess what? The real world is a pretty scary bloody place right now. There are Muggleborns being attacked everywhere. Some of those families have kids in school right now! They know the score, and anyone else who doesn't isn't paying attention. Unless you're a doubter, Davies. You don't think the Ministry is making it all up, do you?"

"That's a loaded question, and I'm not answering it."

"Refusing to answer the question means he's scared of one of the answers," Pansy said. "Since the only right answer is 'No, the Ministry is telling the truth about Voldemort being back,' he's afraid of speaking the other answer, 'Yes, the Ministry is lying about Voldemort being back.' So you think the Ministry is lying, do you, Davies?"

"Stop putting words in my mouth!" The seventh-year prefect was very irritated. Not being chosen Head Boy would do that to a person. He'd been barely civil to anyone, least of all Diggory.

"Cedric, are you going to let that go on?" Spinnet asked. "Parkinson is out of order."

"Roger started it," Diggory said fairly. "If he can't defend himself against a couple of mouthy fifth-years, maybe we should ask Professor Flitwick to appoint a new prefect. Potter has a point."

"Stuff it, Diggory," Davies snapped, "and shut up, Parkinson. All I said was that I think Professor Umbridge may be a bit extreme in her teaching methods. I recognize that the Dark Lord has returned, but that's no excuse for turning Hogwarts into a boot camp. We can't all be soldiers, you know. Some of us have to plan and strategize."

"Yes, and we're called Slytherins," Miles Bletchley said loudly.

The whole council erupted in laughter, some of it a bit nervous, all of it noisy. Davies scowled darkly. He stood there seething until everyone calmed down.

"If I may continue?" he asked icily.

"No," Diggory said. "I've heard enough. I'm doing the same things in class as you are, Davies, and I don't find that we're being unduly pushed. Has the curriculum changed? You bet it has. Is it unreasonable given what's going on out there? Not a chance. Professor Umbridge has the full backing of the Headmaster and the board of governors. Those are the adults entrusted with securing our education and protection, and this is the course they have chosen. Now, when she starts having us cast Unforgiveables on each other, then I will find arguments that she's gone crackers a little more credible, but not before. Is that clear?"

There was a murmur of assent from the council.

"Good," Spinnet said, her tone clearly indicating that it was settled. "Next item, the first Hogsmeade weekend. For reasons of security, the students will not be told until the morning of at breakfast. Don't make too many plans for that weekend. Dumbledore wants us to be ready to get everyone back to the castle in a hurry if there's trouble. As Professor Moody once told us, 'Constant vigilance'. We're to be ready to hold off Death Eaters if we have to until the teachers arrive."

"What?" Bletchley demanded. "Can no one be spared to guard the next generation for a weekend?"

"Bletchley, shut up! You are argumentative and out of order. We are prefects, and it is our job to protect our students."

"It's the Headmaster's responsibility to protect the students."

"We assist in that. Got it?"

"I'm more prepared to be the _last_ line of defence, not the first, if you know what I'm saying. I'm not scared to go down fighting to protect my kids, but do I really have to volunteer to be the first guy?"

"It's the best we can do, Bletchley. They're worried about decoy attacks too."

Bletchley snorted. "Protect all the important places then. Whatever. Carry on." He sat.

" _Thank_ you!" Diggory said with exasperation. "Third item:"

On it went, covering any number of small, minute complaints. Students were to be kept out of the Astronomy tower after curfew except for class purposes. The list of banned items was distributed. Patrol schedules were handed out. Harry despaired that this torment might never be over. Finally Diggory started wrapping up.

"Does anyone have anything to bring before the council?"

Nobody did. It was only a week into term, after all. One of the Ravenclaws motioned to adjourn, and was seconded. After a quick voice vote, the meeting ended with the bang of the gavel. Everyone got to their feet and began to shuffle for the door.

A flash of bright blonde hair caught his eye. Hannah Abbott looked over just as he was looking up. Their eyes locked, and she giggled nervously. She smiled at Harry as she walked out of the meeting room. It was a pleasure to watch her leave. She wore a cinched-in robe that did nothing to hide her figure. She'd always been pretty, but now she was sultry.

Harry and Pansy were by themselves as they walked through the corridors back down to the Slytherin common room. Sam Warrington and David Palce had taken a different and more roundabout route. Heather Chandler and the seventh year prefect from Ravenclaw headed to the library to work on Ancient Runes together. Bletchley had stayed to talk Quidditch with Diggory and Spinnet. 

"Say, Pansy."

"Yes, Harry?"

"I think Hannah Abbott has a crush on me."

"Ooh, really?" Pansy asked, very interested now. "Do tell."

"Well, just now she giggled and smiled at me."

"Very perceptive, Harry. I've taught you well. Now, what else is there? I know you had a couple of dates last summer."

"I went swimming at her house, but it's not really a date. Susan was there."

"Then you and Draco went out on a boat with them both," Pansy remembered, not sounding terribly pleased with the recollection.

"Yes, there was that, but then the whole Goblet of Fire nonsense happened. We haven't really talked in a long time."

"Well, Hannah loves Herbology. It's her favourite subject. She likes bright colours, which explains her predilection for yellow even when she's not at school. She likes horses, unicorns, pegasi, and so on. That may include centaurs, but we're not sure. She loves swimming and knows how to dive quite well. She hadn't gone out with anybody before she went to the Yule Ball with Justin Finch-Fletchley. She didn't kiss him, and she hasn't gone out with him, or with anybody else, since."

Pansy rattled off Hannah's biography with a preciseness that scared Harry somewhat. Her depth of knowledge about her fellow students was astounding. She was one of the many cogs in the Hogwarts gossip mill, one of the big ones.

"How was it when you were over her house?" Pansy asked. "I bet anything Bones was just there for courage and it really was a date for you and Hannah."

"Weren't you the one telling me I'd asked out Susan?"

"Yes, but you did. She eventually got over that bit about stealing Hufflepuff's glory, right? She's not as tall as she looks because her shoes have really thick soles. Her favorite color is brown. She aced the Charms final last year. She went to the Yule Ball with Ernie MacMillan-"

"Pansy, enough," Harry begged. "I think I should just try one, don't you think?"

"Just trying to help, Harry. Hannah's favourite drink is butterbeer, so maybe you can spend some time with her in the Three Broomsticks."

"Well that sounds good," Harry said, feeling glad that he finally had a plan. "Now to ask her."

"Let it happen naturally. Don't force it. You get too nervous."

"Girls make me nervous."

"As we should, Harry. As we should."

* * *

Harry's first prefect patrol was scheduled for Thursday night. He was to take his first rounds with an older prefect who could show him the ropes. He found himself with David Palce, a relatively soft-spoken boy who immediately put Harry at ease.

"There's nothing to this patrolling bit. The castle is divided up according to house. Being Slytherin, our designated area is the dungeons. Anything on the ground floor and lower is our domain. Of course, you can swap with any prefect, so you may need to go through other areas. Hufflepuff has the first and second floors, Gryffindor has the third and fourth floors and the battlements, and Ravenclaw has the top three floors and the towers."

"I see."

"It's a simple matter of walking down every corridor, listening for noises that will betray people out after curfew. Mostly it's students from different houses getting together to snog. Rarely you'll find the couple that doesn't want the rest of their house to know. That's always good for some blackmail leverage. Last year I caught Angelina Johnson and George Weasley in the unused classroom near the way out to the greenhouses. I got quite an eyeful, let me tell you. Johnson's very curvy."

Harry grinned. "What'd your silence cost them?"

"Weasley tried to bluff his way out, but Johnson clamped a hand over his mouth and told me she'd do my history essay. I wasn't about to turn her down."

"Did she get a good mark?"

"Actually, yes."

They exited the Slytherin common room and made their way down towards the Potions classrooms.

Harry opened the first door and peered inside. He placed his hand on the stone circle near the door, causing the torches to flare to life.

"Nothing here."

"You've got to do more than that, Potter," Palce said. "Go check down the rows and make sure there's nobody hiding down front."

Harry did so, looking carefully under each bench and behind the desk at the front.

"Still nothing here."

"Very well. Next room."

It was more of the same, and Harry soon grew quite bored with the tedium of it. He and David chatted away anything and everything in order to pass the time.

"So how about the British Cup this year? Harry asked. "Think Montrose can do it again?"

"Do you think they'll even have a Cup? What with the war on and all?" David asked.

"I hope so," Harry replied. The very thought had never occured to him. It had been bad enough when Quidditch was cancelled for the Triwizard Tournament. "Bollocks, that would be awful."

"Did you hear that?" David said suddenly.

Harry's hand flashed to his wand. "Where?"

"It sounded like a moan. We have a couple out of bounds. This should be fun."

David cast a Silencing Charm on his feet and gestured to Harry to do the same. Then he spoke a spell Harry hadn't heard of.

" _Extrauditorious!_ "

The previously quiet noise of the castle now roared in his ears. Every sound was amplified. He could hear bugs crawling around in the deep cracks of the stone floor, water running through pipes behind the walls, and the echoes of owls hooting in the night. He could also quite clearly hear two people breathing heavily.

"What is this spell?" he whispered. His voice sounded no louder to his own ears.

"Hearing Amplification Charm. We'll follow the sound of that noise until we find them."

"Why is my voice normal? How come I don't hear my heart beating or my own breathing? Or yours for that matter?"

David shrugged. "Snape didn't tell me. I imagine the creator of the spell worked around it."

"Snape taught you this spell?"

"Yeah. He'll be calling you into his office in a few days or so to show you. You'd better be prepared. Bletchley showed me, and now I show you."

"Thanks, David."

"No problem, Harry. Now, about those two."

David led the way to the last classroom in the corridor. This one was never used anymore, and it had become a supply room of miscellaneous equipment. Both David and Harry put their ears up to the door. There was giggling going on in there. David canceled the Charm.

"Open the door real slowly. We'll try to catch them in the act, so be very quiet."

"Door's locked," Harry said, turning the handle gently.

"Damned unlock spell makes too much light. Someone should make a stealthier version."

"I'll get right on that."

"Okay, here we go. We charge in. I'll get the front. You cover the rear. _Alohamora!_ "

Whire light flared from David's wand into the keyhole. The mechanism opened with a click. The door swung open on squeaky hinges. Harry jumped through the door brandishing his wand. He looked quickly down the rows of seats. He saw nothing but dusty cauldrons.

"Gotcha!" David shouted from the front of the room.

A girl screamed, and Harry ran down just in time to see her pulling her shirt closed. He got a tantalizing glimpse of breast and wished he'd been faster.

"Well, well, well, Connie Rookwood," David said pleasantly, "and Cormac McClaggan, what a surprise."

"Sod off, Palce!" the boy ordered.

"Five points from Gryffindor for being discourteous to a prefect," David said instead. "Ten for being out of bounds, I'd say. Get back to your tower."

"Come on, Connie."

"Oh no, I'm not done with Miss Rookwood quite yet. Get along McClaggan. This is prefect business."

McClaggan glared, but there really was nothing he could do. He slouched off, buttoning his shirt as he went.

Connie Rookwood was a tall girl with very pale blonde hair. Her robe was currently thrown over a chair, and she was hastily buttoning her shirt before she could show them anymore than she already had.

David pointed his wand and levitated a slinky bit of lace.

"Is this his or yours?"

"Oooh!" Connie fumed, snatching it out of the air and stuffing it in the pocket of her robes, which she donned with a flourish. She began fastening that up as well.

"Oh, what to do with you," David said speculatively. "I can't take points from you, as you are also a prefect. Same for detention. So why should I not turn you in to Professor Snape?"

Connie frowned for a second, but she appeared thoughtful, not angry. When she spoke, her voice was much calmer.

"David, I know you're a reasonable person. Surely there's no need to involve Professor Snape. We can resolve this between ourselves."

"I'm game."

"I may be in Ravenclaw, but my family has branches in Slytherin as well. How about a pass based on good associations?"

"Clever. Keep talking."

"Well, I heard you complaining about our Transfiguration assignment yesterday. I could help you with it."

"I already finished it. Sam talked me through it."

"Ah." She looked thoughtful for a moment. "Are you and Sam dating or what? None of us can get a straight answer out of her."

"Stop trying to change the subject."

"That's a yes."

"No, it's not! No, we're not. Okay? By Merlin's flowing robes, we're just friends."

Connie looked over at Harry. "Potter, take a walk. I want to talk to David in private."

Harry looked at David. He was eyeing Connie cautiously. "About what?" he asked.

"None of his business, that's what. Come on. What are you so scared of? You've got me at wandpoint."

"Harry, leave the door open."

"Sure thing, David."

Harry walked outside the classroom and leaned against the opposite wall. He was out of hearing range, but he could still see the pair.

Out of sudden curiosity, he drew his wand.

" _Extrauditorious!_ "

The distant sounds of the castle were now as though they were right next to him. He could hear the conversation loud and clear.

"What do you want, Connie? What the hell are you doing down here? You know this is my night for patrol. Are you trying to get caught?"

"What do you want, David?" she retorted. "Cormac is a Quidditch-playing moron. He's entertaining enough for a good snog, but he's nothing compared to you. I've been dropping hints around you for two years now, and you've been completely oblivious. Don't you like me, David? Because I think you're just about the dreamiest boy I've ever laid eyes on, and I want to do to you all of those things I was just practicing and maybe more."

David stood there dumbfounded.

"Well?" she said expectantly. "Are you going to say anything after I just poured my heart out to you?"

"Are you crackers? To think that you can give me a good snog and get off scot free? You must be out of your head. I'm a Slytherin, Connie. We didn't invent clever lies and deceptions; we perfected them. Do you want to try again?"

"Oooh!" Connie growled, giving up on her plot.

"You can't trick a Slytherin. Now march. I'm sure you know the way to Professor Snape's office."

David held Connie at wandpoint all down the corridor and around the corner to a plain wooden door. Harry knocked twice, using the special prefix to announce that he was a Slytherin who was not alone.

Professor Snape came to the door and opened it with a rush of air.

"What is it? Potter? Palce? What the devil is going here?"

"We were on patrol, sir. We heard a noise and investigated. We found Miss Rookwood in a compromising situation with Cormac McClaggan, who has already been dealt with."

"I see. Mister Potter, you confirm his story?"

"I do, sir."

"Miss Rookwood, you are out of bounds. Ten points from Ravenclaw."

"There are more charges, sir. Attempted bribery. Miss Rookwood offered to do my homework if I wouldn't turn her into you. When I refused that, she offered me her body."

Snape gave Connie a withering look. "Miss Rookwood, how disappointing."

"It's not like that!" she protested. "I didn't offer to sleep with him! As if I would! How dare you cast that slur on me?"

"Says the girl caught with her shirt off in an unused classroom."

"That will do, Mister Palce. You may go. I will deal with Miss Rookwood."

Harry and David left the office and continued on their patrol.

"Well, that was fun," Harry said.

"Oh yes."

"You didn't try to get a snog out of her? Could've done that and then turned her in."

"Thought about it. Decided I didn't want to take the chance that Sam's waiting up for me in the common room."

"So you two are dating."

"I didn't say that."

* * *

The Slytherin Quidditch team was old.

Harry couldn't really believe that after five years of playing Quidditch with Adrian Pucey, Desmond Montague, Charles Warrington the Third, and Captain Miles Bletchley, when this season ended, they would all finish school, leaving Harry alone with whatever rookies they picked up this year to replace Ivan Bole and Matthew Derrick, the Beaters who had been denied a final season of Quidditch thanks to the Triwizard Tournament. It was doubtless because of this impending vacuum that Bletchley had asked Harry to meet with him privately before the first practice.

Harry knocked on the seventh years' door. "Bletchley? You were looking for me?"

"Ah, Harry, come in." The seventh year dorm was a mild disaster area. Clothes were always hung neatly in the wardrobes of course, but everything else in the world seemed to litter the floor.

"Nice place, mate."

"Chasers are slobs," Bletchley growled. "I've said everything I can say about it. In a few more months, it won't be my problem anymore."

"So what's up?"

"You're going to be the last team veteran next year."

"Unless one of you lot gets left back."

"No chance of that. So I know it's a certainty that Snape will make you Quidditch captain. Unless we find an undiscovered future pro to be one of the Beaters at trials -- and I don't think that likely -- you're it."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I know."

"Looking forward to it?"

"A bit."

"Nervous?"

"A bit."

"Yeah, you should be, but Flint and I have trained you well. You're a damned good Quidditch player, Potter. This year, I'll teach you how to be a leader."

Bletchley picked up a very battered leather-bound book. The Slytherin house crest was embossed on the cover, along with a faded representation of the Quidditch Cup.

"This is the play book," he said simply. "Flint gave it to me, and now I give it to you."

The play book! The Slytherin Quidditch manual was one of the most closely guarded possessions at Hogwarts (next to the Gryffindor Quidditch manual, the Ravenclaw Quidditch manual, and the Hufflepuff Quidditch manual, to be sure!) It was a priceless trove of knowledge, filled with descriptions of plays, moves, feints, tricks, and tactics. It was the culmination of decades of Slytherin cunning, and only the captain was allowed to read it.

Harry felt very awed as he slowly took the book from Bletchley. It was quite the sensation to know that in one short year Harry would wear the Captain's badge pinned to his robes. Bletchley was right: there were no other possibilities. It was as foregone as if they gave him the badge today. All the responsibility of keeping the grand Slytherin Quidditch tradition alive would rest on his shoulders.

"I don't know what to say."

"Promise me you'll guard it with your life. Promise me you'll bring the Cup home again next season."

"I promise."

"Good. Now let's get down to the pitch."

Harry stowed the manual in the third compartment of his trunk for safe-keeping. It felt strange to walk side by side with the Quidditch Captain as almost an equal. He was heir to the Slytherin tradition. He found himself standing a little taller, a little prouder. 

This being the day of trials, the common room was pretty empty as he and Bletchley headed up. Heather Chandler was frantically scribbling away at some assignment or other. She didn't look up when Bletchley greeted her.

"Have fun at practice," she said. "I can't go watch. Stupid Pucey disintegrated my Transfiguration homework which is due Monday and took me all week to do."

"Ouch," Bletchley winced. "Old McGonagall will crucify you."

"I know that," she said in a stretched nerve, sing-songy tone. "Now go away."

They exited the common room into the dungeons. Quickly navigating their way to the surface, they made their way down to the pitch. Bletchley said little on the trip. He was doubtless thinking of strategy and tactics. Harry respected the silence. He even matched pace with the Captain so that the rhythm of their footfalls would be in sync and not provide disturbing patterns.

As they came within sight of the stadium, Bletchley finally spoke. "Potter, as your first training exercise in being captain, I want you to run trials."

"Bletchley, you're kidding." Harry was incredulous. What a horrible surprise to spring on him. What was Bletchley trying to do to him? "Do I get to hold the almighty clipboard?"

"Keep laughing, Potter. You might have to take over at any moment. The lads are good at the game, but they only know their part. They can't see the art and beauty of all the parts together. I think you can, and if I fall, you're going to have to step up. 

Ah, so he was trying to test Harry's mettle under fire. Well, that wouldn't be hard. What was a little Quidditch trial compared to facing a dragon on a broom? "Because I've never had to perform under pressure," Harry replied, drawling slightly.

"Shut up, Potter. I'm deadly serious. If you lose the Quidditch Cup for Slytherin, I'll get Flint and all the other captains to thrash you."

"But not you?"

"Shut _up_ , Potter," Bletchley said once more as they stepped on to the pitch, "and get the Seekers in the sky."

"Seekers over here now!" Harry bawled to the crowd.

Four people stepped forward: Laine, Arcen, Jeremiah representing fourth year, and a third year, Christine Higgs. Her older brother Terence had been reserve Seeker before Harry joined the team, just getting ready to step into the limelight. Harry had outflown him at trials as a first year, and Higgs had never gotten over his humiliation. From the hard look Christine was directing his way, Harry had a feeling that she intended to take his spot from him if she could.

"Now then, while the trial is going on, we are all going to be hunting for this." Harry took the snitch out of his pocket and held it up for all to see. He released it, and it hovered in the air for a moment before attempting to zoom away.

Harry's hand shot out and snatched the golden ball as it tried to escape. He let it go and caught it with the left hand. Twice more he let it try to get away and snatched it out of the air with flair. The four potentials watched his hands blur in the air. He regularly did this with a practice snitch. Now he was showing off and using the real thing.

"If you can get to it before me," and from Harry's tone of voice, he didn't think that very likely at all, "then you become starting Seeker. If you're the first of you lot to catch it, you become reserve Seeker, and I fly you into the ground every practice. Any questions?"

"Are there rules?" Arcen asked.

"Normal Slytherin Quidditch rules apply."

There were no more questions.

"Good. Start warming up. Chasers!"

Harry lined them up and had them count off by threes. There was a great deal of rearranging in the line so that friends who had practiced together would try out together. Every triplet was a team, and they had to fly against Warrington the Third, Pucey, and Montague. The veteran Chasers weren't out to score, just for distance and damage. Bletchley kept himself on the ground while the various Keeper wanna-bes took turns against the progressive Chaser teams.

The Beaters' trial was a bit more challenging. Bole and Derrick were gone. Without a starting player to topple, it was anybody's for the taking. Consequently, Harry had more candidates for this position than any other. He considered carefully how he should test them.

"Beaters, pair off by twos," he ordered. "Last team still flying gets the spots. If one of you is eliminated, you're both out."

"Nice strategy, Potter," Bletchley muttered appreciatively. "Survival of the fittest."

"It gives us Beaters who can pack a punch and take a hit. I thought of it from Bole and Derrick's performance during trials my first year."

"Good memory."

By this point, the Seeker hopefuls had finished their warm-up laps. Harry handed the snitch to Bletchley.

"Don't lose, Potter."

"I'll be back on the ground before you've called on the next Chaser group."

Harry kicked off, rocketing into the air on his Firebolt. This was a formality as far as he was concerned. Nobody would be able to find or catch the snitch before him.

Bletchley shouted, "Loose!" and flung the snitch into the sky. It vanished.

Harry flew up to a high vantage point. The snitch was easiest to see from above.

Arcen and Higgs both tried to fake each other out. Jeremiah got tricked by somebody's watch. Laine was flying near Harry, but not close enough to be marking him. Marking would have been useless, because once Harry saw the snitch, there would be no way she could catch him on that Cleansweep 10.

Laine dove suddenly. Harry didn't take the bait, but then he squinted along her line of flight. It was quite aways in front of her, but it was definitely the snitch!

Biting back a curse for being caught flying the wrong direction, Harry turned on the speed. He quickly caught up with Laine and began to creep past her. The snitch was right there, waiting for him to grab.

The hand on his bum nearly made him jump off his broom. He glanced down and saw the determined look on her face. She squeezed, making shivers run up his spine, and she began to inch ahead of him.

Harry couldn't let her distract him. He twisted, pulling his derrier out of her reach. He flattened himself out as much as possible and zoomed forward to wrap his fingers around the snitch. He zoomed down to the ground where Bletchley was smirking broadly at him.

"Crazy dame really understands Slytherin Quidditch rules," Bletchley commented blandly.

Harry flushed, but he replied, "There are no rules. I got the snitch, didn't I?"

"That you did. Now figure out who your backup is going to be."

"Loose!" Harry shouted, letting the snitch go. "Any thoughts on Chasers?"

"Not really. I already had my mind made up. Nobody's better than those three."

"I figured as much."

"Beaters, now, that's more tricky. I'm inclined to go for brute strength and pick your friends Crabbe and Goyle. Flint had his eye on them, you know."

"Yeah, I know. I was going to remind you of that."

"Sounds like we're in agreement then. Good. Now get to work, and let me get through the rest of this parade."

Set by set, the hopeful Chasers and Keepers went into the sky, being generally unimpressive until Draco and Millie kicked off. Harry couldn't see who their third person was. The Keeper who rose to guard the hoops against them was Theodore Nolan, a third year.

Nolan didn't stand a chance.

Harry's friends had been working together non-stop to tighten up their teamwork. Harry had attempted to take Theo's place in that group, but he was far more suited to being a Seeker. If it weren't for the years of experience that Pucey, Montague, and Warrington the Third had together, they would have easily been the best choices. As it was, the team members had quite a fight on their hands, made more even by virtue of the lads not wanting to injure themselves at the start of the season. The cobbing and the strong tactics were not entirely out of control.

"Yes!" came a frantic shriek from high in the sky. Harry turned to look and saw Laine holding up her fist in triumph. She had caught the snitch!

"Slater, front and centre! The rest of you lot can bugger off! Anyone who wants to can also have a go at the Chasers if you're still up for it."

The other Seeker hopefuls descended with dejected expressions, except for Christine Higgs whose gaze may have rivalled a basilisk for deadliness. She shouldered her broom and headed back towards the castle. Laine landed in front of Harry and dismounted. She held out the snitch proudly, and Harry took it from her.

"Well done."

"Thank you, Harry."

"You're the reserve Seeker, but Bletchley is grooming me to be Captain next year, and I'm going to show him I've got the right stuff. I will expect you to attend every practice, and I am going to fly you ragged."

"I look forward to it."

"You say that now."

"When's the first practice, Captain?" Laine grinned mischievously at him, making his stomach do a flip-flop.

"Captain Bletchley will decide and inform us."

"Yes, sir!"

"Any who failed as Seeker who want to try being Chaser get over to the hoops now!" Harry bawled.

The Beaters were being thinned out. Half of those who had gone into the sky had returned to the ground. Many were limping off the pitch. Just as Harry had expected, Crabbe and Goyle were the last men flying amongst the Beaters. Crabbe hit a Bludger at the other pair, who tried to go for a Bludger Backbeat. Crabbe avoided the mis-aimed ball easily, but Goyle had struck the other Bludger at the exact same moment, so the other pair hadn't heard the impact. The iron ball crashed into one boy, ricocheted off him and struck the other right in the stomach. The first boy fell off, while the second began spewing up his breakfast. Crabbe didn't even use a Bludger to unseat him, just yanked his broom out from under him.

"I want Crabbe, Goyle, Malfoy, Bulstrode, Slater, Slater, and Bulstrode to remain. Everyone else, head for the showers."

As those named clustered in the centre of the field, they were all congratulating each other. Bletchley finally called them to something resembling attention by bellowing, "Shut it!" at the top of his lungs.

"That's better. Now, then, practices are going to go a bit different this year because this is the last season for me, Montague, Pucey, and Warrington."

"The third."

"Shut it. We need to train you lot so that you can uphold the glory of Slytherin. We've had ten years of triumph in the Interhouse Quidditch Cup, and you'd better not be the team that bolloxes it up."

"You still have to lead us to victory one more time, Bletchley," Warrington contributed helpfully. "They might have to reclaim the Cup if we don't stay on top form."

"Then I hope you kept in shape over the summer," Bletchley retorted. "All Chasers in the sky now. Fifty laps at top speed. Report to me as you finish." They all stood there stunned. "Move it, move it!"

The six Chasers zoomed to the border of the pitch, already jinking and jostling for position. The team veterans were way out in front. Bletchley turned to Harry.

"Take Slater and teach her everything you know about Seeking," he ordered.

"Oh, I'll be able to make it for tea, then," Harry said cheekily. "Won't take long at all."

"Shut it, Potter. I know you'll still be Seeking for the next two years, but you nearly got eaten last year, and we didn't have a backup."

"Is that why this sudden determination to have a reserve? Because of a dragon? Bletchley, I flew circles around that lizard. He never laid a tooth on me."

"It looked pretty damn close from where I was sitting. All I could see was this year's Quidditch Cup slipping through my fingers. I will not be the one to lose it after ten years. Get her at least as good as you, or I'll- I'll- I'll do something! And you won't like it!"

The captain's face was turning red. Feeling slightly alarmed, Harry tried to calm him down. "Miles, mate, relax! Breathe. We're not going to lose the Cup. Our Chasers are still the best, and our Keeper is outstanding. None of the other Seekers is worth a sack of rat guts. Remember, this is Diggory's last year too. I don't even know who'll be trying for Gryffindor, but Chang is the best of the lot. I can train Laine to be better than all of them."

"You'd better! Now get airborne! I'll release the snitch in a minute." Bletchley turned and glared at Goyle and Crabbe, who withered. "Okay, boys, time for some pain."

"Excuse me, Captain Bletchley?" Lucas Slater spoke up. "What about me?"

"What?" Bletchley seemed momentarily confused. "Oh, right, the other Slater. Umm, get warmed up. You're going to be guarding the hoops against the Chasers. All of them."

Lucas' face paled, but he raised his chin. "Yes, sir!"

Harry turned to Laine. "Let's hit the sky."

They kicked off into the air. Harry led her up to the centre of the pitch about a hundred feet up. You could see everything on the field from up here.

Laine stayed hot on his twigs as he zoomed upwards. Her Cleansweep 10 was pretty zippy, and more than enough to beat any of the other Seekers.

"Oh wise one, I have sought you out that I might learn from your wisdom. Teach me the secrets of Slytherin's champions."

Harry laughed. "Well, we start with the little golden ball called a snitch."

"We have to catch it. Yes, this much I know."

"Just checking that we have the basics. You did pretty good during the trial. You must have been practicing over the summer. Do you have your own pitch at home?"

"Yes, and because the house is built the way it is, well, you'll just have to come see it some time. There's all the room to fly you could want. I couldn't leave the house this summer, so that's what I did. Then I figured if I was going to be flying so much anyway, I might as well train to go out for the team. I'm still rather surprised I actually made it."

"It was a good plan," Harry complimented. "I see the snitch. Let's go!"

Neck and neck they raced around the pitch. The snitch apparently wasn't in the mood for taking them on an obstacle course through the stands. It was content to dart to and fro all over the customary playing zone, giving them obstacles like Chasers and Bludgers to avoid.

Harry figured it was about time to show Laine a few of the nasty things Seekers could do to each other. She may have done some fancy flying, but catching the snitch wasn't just about that. He eased back from his top speed. She caught up with him.

He looked over at Laine and saw that she was straining to get closer to the snitch. She spared a glance in his direction. Harry winked at her and then flipped over on his broom, riding upside down underneath her.

"Harry!" she screamed. "What are you doing?!"

He grinned up at her without answering. In her attention to what he was doing, she lost focus on flying. It compensated for his being essentially hanging from his broom.

Keeping his right knee locked tight over the handle, Harry reached out with his left foot and put it at the base of Laine's tail-twigs. She noticed the sudden shift to her broom and looked back.

"What are you-? No!" she yelped as he shoved as hard as he could, sending her careening for the ground. They were pretty high up, but there still wasn't a lot of time to recover from any sudden shock to a broom.

Harry pulled up, letting the snitch flutter away. He wanted to see how quickly Laine could recover. She took longer than he would have liked, but she did manage to regain control.

"Nice move," she said sarcastically.

"It worked, didn't it? It's also legal."

"Right. Legal."

"The snitch is waiting for us."

As soon as they started chasing it again, the snitch began to fly away as fast as it could. Harry noticed that Laine was flying a lot faster than she'd been before. Harry bumped his broom against hers. She swore at him and corrected her position. He took one hand off and gave her a sharp elbow to the arm. She yelped and swerved off.

"You must learn control," Harry said. "Quidditch is a rough game. The other Seeker is going to be ruthless. Take him out first."

"Right."

The snitch had vanished, so they started looking for it again. Harry and Laine floated above the pitch, eyes peeled.

"Seeking is long moments of concentration interrupted by brief spurts of frantic flying and excitement. Once you begin to go after it, you'll have all the other team trying to foul you. Beaters will aim in your direction, and I once saw Fred Weasley 'mistake' Pucey for a Bludger."

"That can't be legal."

"If Madam Hooch doesn't see it, then it's legal. There! Do you see it?

"Where?"

Harry pointed to where the snitch was happily fluttering along the stands. She looked, following his finger.

"I can't see it."

"There," Harry said, "right by the banner."

They had become quite close as Harry tried to guide her line of sight to the snitch. She turned her head slightly, and suddenly her breath was tickling his ear.

"I'm going to learn a lot from you."

Harry felt blood rushing to his face. His skin was all tingly where her breath had touched his cheek, and he wished she would do it again. He turned his head to reply, and Laine leaned forward to meet him. Their lips touched, then lingered, then pulled back.

Fireworks were going off in Harry's head. Had that really just happened?

Laine watched him anxiously for a split second. Then she smiled at him, and his insides turned to custard.

The snitch chose that inopportune moment to buzz by them, and Laine zoomed off after it, leaving Harry trying to shake away the daze. Belatedly, he took off after her.

Harry was distracted for the rest of practice, and he was quiet as he showered and changed into clean clothing. He hung around the entrance to the locker room as the boys headed up to the Great Hall for dinner.

Just when he'd started to think that Laine might have gotten over her crush on him, she had to go and do something like snog him several hundred feet in the air. Harry felt himself getting dizzy all over again just remembering the feel of her soft lips.

He was also conflicted. He was already making signs of interest towards Hannah. She seemed to be receptive. To be fair, she was giving him big signs right back, ones with gigantic, multi-colour letters. What was he to do about that?

Harry forced himself to pause. He was getting far too ahead of himself. He needed to take this one step at a time. He should give Laine a fair chance. He hadn't really done more than exchange flirty glances with Hannah. He'd done that with a lot of girls, including her best friend Susan.

It wasn't unheard of for students to date outside their form. He liked Laine plenty, and apparently he liked to kiss her. As Sirius had told him, relationships weren't much more than that at this stage.

Harry cupped a hand to his face and checked his breath. It wasn't _too_ horrible, but could certainly do with some freshening. He tapped his wand to his tongue and teeth. This was a spell he'd learned in the book of household spells Sirius had recommended to him. The Freshening Charm could be adapted to many uses, and now Harry could taste nothing but spearmint.

"Harry!" Laine said with surprise as she emerged from the changing room. "What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you. I thought we might walk up to dinner together."

"Sure. I'd like that."

"Congratulations again on making the reserve squad. We'll get you trained up a bit, and you'll be more than ready to take on Gryffindor."

"What about Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff?"

"That's a bit trickier," Harry admitted. "Cho Chang is pretty good as a Seeker, and Diggory is better than her, but Diggory is done with school this year, and Chang will be done the year after."

"So I'll have one year after you leave school to be the best Seeker in Hogwarts, and that's it?"

Harry chuckled. "Yes, that's what I'm saying."

"Do you like me, Harry?"

Harry nearly stumbled. Laine had caught him completely off-guard with her direct question. A direct question deserved a straight answer.

"Yes, I do. I think you're fun, pretty, pleasant, and I know I can depend on you. What's not to like?"

"I like you too. I think you've known that, and I've tried to get over my crush. I think I am, for the most part, but I still like you. I think about you all the time. I wonder what you're doing. I even dream about you sometimes."

Laine instantly began to blush. "Oh drat. I didn't mean to say that."

Harry didn't know whether to be touched or worried by her unintended revelation. Perhaps a bit of both.

"Just what are we doing in these dreams of yours?" he asked teasingly.

"I don't believe I told you that," she rued.

"Come on," he wheedled. "If you don't tell me, I'll just start making stuff up."

Laine blushed even harder. "It's nothing like that. I dream that you asked me to the Yule Ball last year, or that I actually got up the courage to cut in a few times. Or that there'll be another ball this year, and you'll ask me. Silly, I suppose."

"Not at all. It would have been fun to dance with you. I certainly danced with everyone else. I'm sorry I didn't ask you for at least one."

"That's so sweet, Harry. Thank you. Next time, then."

"Sure."

Harry decided right then that he would ask Laine out to Hogsmeade as soon as Dumbledore made the announcement. There was no reason in the world why he shouldn't have a date with a girl who liked him.

Maybe he should even ask her before the news broke. He didn't know when the weekend would be, but it would give them something to look forward to. Or it could hang over their heads, he considered.

Harry realized that despite being older and wiser and talking to men he respected, he still did not understand how to cope with females.

"Would you like to go for a walk around the castle with me? I think I've got some time free next Thursday."

"OWL year already a cruncher, is it?" she asked sympathetically.

"Things haven't even gotten started yet," he predicted.

"Well we'd better fit in the fun time while we can," she said with a giggle. "Yes, Harry, I would like to take a long walk with you. Whenever you can find the time is fine with me. I understand how busy you are."

Harry felt a rush of gratitude. It felt weird having to schedule his recreation time, but that was what O.W.L. year meant.

"I'll let you know later in the week then."

"Sounds good."

They were at the front gate to the castle now, and Harry opened the smaller door to the side. He gestured for Laine to go first. She smiled at him as she passed by, and he felt his insides knot up.

"Are you going to join Umbridge's duelling club?" Harry asked, moving to a less flush-inducing topic of conversation.

"I don't know. Lucas is quite excited to sign up, but I don't know if I'd be any good at that sort of thing."

"We all need to be able to defend ourselves. What if the Death Eaters come for you because you're on my side?"

"I suppose I'd try to run away. Hide. Apparate. I'm going to try to get a job in the Ministry when I finish school. I'll be able to contribute to the war that way. I don't have the marks or the skills to make it as an Auror or a Healer."

"You're selling yourself short."

"It's nice of you to say so, Harry, but the professors say otherwise."

"Marks aren't everything."

"But they do matter a lot."

"I think you should join anyway. It never hurts to practice, and you can only get better, not worse."

"That's true. I wonder what my parents will think."

"They'll disapprove?"

"It's probably not ladylike."

* * *

The first meeting of the new duelling club was scheduled for Sunday afternoon in the Great Hall. There were a decent number of students present. Upper years were more prevalent than ickle firsties and second years. All the four houses were well-represented. There was a platform erected, but nothing resembling the highly decorative duelling stage Professor Lockhart had requisitioned for the one meeting of his own ill-fated club.

In a way, Harry reflected, he ought to thank Lockhart for his foolishness. If not for him, Harry might never have been told what his ability to speak to snakes really meant. Draco had conjured a snake in their demonstration, but the only real one Harry had ever seen was at the zoo, and who knew when he'd go visit the zoo with Draco or Pansy or Daphne? Honestly, there might be dozens or hundreds of wizards who could speak to snakes, but it was just that there weren't any snakes to talk to.

"Do you think I should get a pet snake?" Harry asked Draco.

"That could be fun, but I bet Regal would try to eat it."

"That's a shame."

"Why do you want a snake?"

"I don't really. Just thinking about the last time we had a Duelling Club. No conjuring snakes, okay?"

Draco smirked. "Of course, my man," he said pompously with a wave of his hand. "Only purely innocent hexes and curses will issue from my wand."

"Yeah, not that one you tried to use on Moody last year. You still haven't told us what it was."

"And I'm not going to."

Professor Umbridge climbed the stairs to the stage and cleared her throat.

"Hem, hem."

The audience grew quiet. Professor Umbridge had been quite intense in class. Everyone was eager to see how she would perform in an extra-curricular activity.

"Thank you all for coming to the first meeting of the Ministry Youth club. We are all here because we support the efforts of the Ministry to fight back against the threat posed by You-Know-Who."

Harry wondered at that. A lot of the people around him were looking at each other confusedly. They thought they were here to practice duelling.

Professor Umbridge continued. "We wish to become better, stronger witches and wizards than what we are." She gave a winsome sort of smile that was supposed to be endearing. "I will not hesitate to confess that my own duelling skills could use with a little polish."

Her admission drew a couple of chuckles from the students. She had mentioned the one word everyone cared about.

"We will work together, strive with one purpose here: to stand up and defy the Dark Lord and his agents. They would bind us in the chains of fear and misery, oppression and servitude. We will not go quietly! No, we will take as many of them with us as we can. We are free only so long as we refuse to let them win.

"The Dark times are here again, and we must be ready. You go out from Hogwarts into the world, and it is a dangerous place. The skills we will practice here may one day save your lives. Not just when you finish your seventh year, but when you are home for the holiday."

That got a reaction. Lots of people felt insulated from the war here at school. They felt safe. They worried about their families, but the notion of being there when something awful happened was clearly new to some of them.

Umbridge's voice grew more and more passionate as she went on. Her eyes got wide and wild.

"So enough! Enough with the talk! Pair off! First and foremost we will learn the Disarming Charm. An opponent without a wand is at a significant disadvantage! The spell is red, as are many hexes and curses. If your opponent tries to use a specific counter and doesn't get it right, the spell will be unimpeded. If your aim is true, he will be disarmed. The incantation is Expelliarmus, and the wand motion is thus! Go to it!"

Harry had perfected the Disarming Charm during his practice for the Tasks. He turned to Draco. "I'm not even bothering."

"Right, mate." Draco had also mastered a variety of spells helping Harry train for the Tasks.

Harry didn't understand why so many of the other students seemed to be plain bad at spellcasting. The Slytherins found hidden rooms in the dungeons and cast the spells over and over again until they got it right. They talked to the upper year students for tips and pointers. What was wrong with all these other houses that they didn't help each other? What was wrong that they didn't work hard at mastering the magic?

"They don't care about our heritage," Draco replied. "They're just muddling through."

Professor Umbridge moved through the crowd, watching, instructing, and taking notes on her clipboard. Her eyes fell on Harry, who was leaning against the wall with Draco, Millie, and Daphne. Pansy, always miserable at Charms, was in need of yet more practice.

"Mister Potter, you are not participating."

"No, ma'am."

"May I ask why not?"

"I've already got this one down pat, thanks. I'm pretty good at duelling, actually. This basic stuff isn't what I need."

"Where did you get so good, Mister Potter?"

"Last year there was this little event called the Triwizard Tournament. You may have heard about it. I was one of the Champions, if you recall, so I did a lot of preparing for the Tasks. I made it through the Maze, duelled Fleur Delacour _and_ Cedric Diggory. I also won the tournament," he added off-handedly.

"Mister Potter, watch your cheek. Very well, I will accept that you are more than a beginner, but what about these three others I see?"

"We helped Harry train," Draco said instantly. "He wouldn't be near as good as he is without our help, because we too are awesome."

"Mister Malfoy, mind _your_ cheek. Fine. I hadn't considered that some of you would be bored. You four are dismissed for the evening. I must think about this."

Not ones to waste opportunity, the four Slytherins high-tailed it out of the Great Hall as Professor Umbridge continued moving through the crowd of students dispensing praise and criticism.

"Well, that was good fortune," Daphne said with a giggle. "Something good came out of the tourney."

"I'm just as glad to have the time back," Draco said. "We've got to finish our Strengthening Solutions tomorrow, and I'm not done reading yet."


	12. Under The Train Platform

It was the beginning of October, and the weather was a bit chilly, even for this time of year. There had been cloudy skies for the past few days, and Professor Sinistra was growing increasingly irritated at being forced to cancel the nighttime Astronomy lessons. Though it inevitably happened every year, she always seemed to take it as a personal affront.

Harry was just as glad to have extra time to do his other assignments. He was keeping up, but only barely. Transfiguration continued to be a breeze for him, but things had gotten much more difficult in Charms, where Profesor Flitwick was reviewing the Banishing Charm. Harry had never quite got the hang of this one, and he was assigned homework along with everyone else.

Despite the courseload, he was still able to be at every Quidditch practice. Bletchley was running the reserves ragged by drilling them exactly as he did the first team. Draco had fallen behind in Herbology and Arithmancy just so he could get some sleep. Millie had skipped lunch and dinner for the same reason.

Harry spent most of the practice chasing after Laine as she tried valiantly to catch the snitch. He made it very difficult for her, but she was slowly learning how to play rough, how to be tricky, and how to do loops. Harry would also snatch the snitch away from her every time at the last minute. He refused to take it easy on her, even if she was a girl. She would only get better by competing against someone better than herself. The match against Gryffindor was a month away, and Harry had to keep in top form, even though he knew it would take a miracle for them to beat Slytherin.

After every practice, Harry would walk Laine back up to the castle, and they'd shared several more kisses since that first one in the sky. It wasn't proper snogging like Harry had done with Padma, but it was still very nice. He was looking forward to when the Hogsmeade visit was announced so that he could spend more time with Laine.

An owl dropped a bit of parchment in Harry's lap on Sunday evening as he was chewing delightedly on a mouthful of shepherd's pie. He swallowed and washed it down with a sip of pumpkin juice.

The note was from Dumbledore, requesting that he report to the staff room after dinner. It did not address Harry by name.

"I've got one too," Pansy said.

"Not me," Draco said.

"That's 'Neither have I', Draco," Tracy said.

"Prefect meeting?" Harry said to Pansy.

"Probably. There is that thing coming up."

"Yes. The thing."

"What thing?" Draco asked.

"The Hogsmeade weekend, obviously," Tracy replied.

"Oh good. You can tell us when it is," Draco said.

"We'll see," Harry said. "It all depends on what it is."

Up and down the Slytherin table, all the prefects had gotten notice. A quick glance over at the other tables revealed the same.

The staff room was on the same floor as the Defence classroom. Harry had been inside once before, when Professor Lupin had taken them to see a boggart. It had been unguarded then, but now the door was blocked by a suit of armour.

Harry glanced around at the other prefects. "What's the password?"

"I don't know."

"Who knows it?"

"I do," said Cedric Diggory. The Head Boy moved through the crowd to stand in front of the armour. "Earl grey."

The suit bowed politely and stepped out of the way. The door creaked open, revealing a long, panelled room, full of old, mismatched chairs and overflowing bookshelves. There was a long table in the middle, but no chairs.

The prefects filed in but remained standing. Within moments, Professor McGonagall strode through the door. With a wave of her wand, the table broke up into twenty-four hard wooden chairs all facing to one end of the room.

"Take a seat, please. Thank you for coming on such short notice. The Headmaster will be here shortly. You will not be kept long from your studies, but the news is quite urgent."

The door opened again, and Professor Dumbledore led in Snape, Sprout, and Flitwick. All the Heads of House, Harry noted. They stood up at the front with McGonagall.

"They are ready, Headmaster."

"Thank you, Professor McGonagall."

Dumbledore turned to the prefects. His hat was on straight, which it usually was not. He stroked his long, luxurious beard with one hand. He appeared every bit the great wizard he was, not the somewhat odd fellow he sometimes acted. His blue eyes gazed at them over his half-moon spectacles. The twinkle was still there, though muted a bit. He looked very serious indeed.

"It is not with capricious whim that I call you from your academic pursuits this marvellous evening. As you are no doubt well aware, the pursuit of knowledge can impose certain stresses on body and mind. It is known that periodic relaxation and entertainment are conducive to the health of both. For this reason, the visits to Hogsmeade village were established centuries ago. The present danger in the world posed by Lord Voldemort does not change that precedent. I might quite cheerfully argue that the added stress brought on by the war makes these visits even more essential. There will be a visit soon. I have asked you here tonight to tell you about your role in the upcoming Hogsmeade weekend. I want you to go about your day as usual. The teachers will be on roving patrol on the perimeter of the village. In the event of trouble, which we're not expecting because of the unannounced nature of the visit, you will help other students to evacuate and get to the safety of the castle while the teachers deal with the situation. The Aurors are on high alert for a signal as well. I must emphasize again that I do not expect trouble."

"Hem, hem."

All eyes turned to the entrance where Professor Umbridge stood holding a clipboard. She had now interrupted Dumbledore twice while he was giving a speech, yet she had the calmest, most serene expression you could imagine. Granted, she still looked like a toad, but she was definitely a serene toad.

"I'm afraid, Headmaster, that the Ministry believes otherwise."

Umbridge swept up to where Dumbledore stood and got between him and the prefects.

"Some of the best strategists in the Ministry believe that You-Know-Who will most definitely strike at the students of Hogwarts. After all, they are weak; helpless. They can be easily subdued and held hostage for their parents' good behaviour."

A cold chill ran up Harry's spine. That sick bastard would do it too!

"For that reason it was decided to keep the date a secret, Professor Umbridge." Dumbledore didn't look so keen on being interrupted again.

"A most wise strategem, Headmaster. Everything you've said was quite correct, but it is not enough, I am afraid."

"What else can there be?"

Professor Umbridge did not respond. She instead turned to the prefects, who were watching the teachers cautiously. They could hear the frosty and polite tones that Umbridge and Dumbledore were using with each other.

"You will be the last line of defence for the students. All prefects will remain sober during the Hogsmeade visit and will spend the day wandering, in other words 'patrolling', the village. You are to carry your wands and be ready to repel an attack. The teachers will be present as well, but with your authority goes responsibility. You must keep the students safe until the Aurors can arrive.

Bletchely raised his hand and waited to be recognized. "Why are the Aurors not stationed in the village?"

"A most reasonable question, Mister Bletchley. Because there are so many targets for him to choose from, the Aurors respond to trouble. There aren't enough Aurors yet to cover every important location all at the same time."

Bletchley accepted that point. He hadn't during the prefect meeting. Harry wondered what had made him back down.

"This is quite outrageous, Professor Umbridge," Dumbledore said. "The prefects patrol corridors looking for students out of bounds. They're not some kind of militia that you can conscript."

"Why do you think all prefects had to join the Ministry Youth?" she asked sweetly. "To get their basic skills up to scratch. They don't have to win against a Death Eater, just last long enough for help to come. I'm confident that they can. If I wasn't," she tittered, "why, if I wasn't, I shouldn't imagine I would even be allowing the visit in the first place."

"Allowing?" Dumbledore asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh my, yes," Umbridge said breathily. "It's just come in from Minister Fudge's office. Educational Decree number twenty-three."

"What is the Ministry taking now?" Professor McGonagall asked.

"'Insomuchas the protection of the children of our society is a paramount responsibility of all public servants, there shall be created a post of Hogwarts Security Officer, and such post shall be invested with authority over all such matters regarding the safety and integrity of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. This position of Security Officer shall be immediately filled by Dolores Jane Umbridge, deemed qualified for the post by virtue of currently being Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts School. Signed, Cornelius O. Fudge, Minister for Magic.'"

"Naturally I still expect to hear all of your ideas," Umbridge said, "but I will be making the final decision on all security matters from now on."

Dumbledore looked thunderstruck. "Fudge goes too far," he declared.

"Some would say he has not gone far enough, Headmaster." Harry wasn't certain he didn't hear a slight pause before she said Dumbledore's title. "But is this really the place to go over all the sordid events of the past four years? No, security is clearly a problem here, and I don't like problems."

Harry couldn't believe anyone was talking down to Dumbledore like this. Even Rita Skeeter put on a fake cheery smile when she was saying horrible things to him. She'd even called him an obsolete dingbat! But Umbridge was sweetness laid over stern stuff.

"Prefects, I have here a pouch of Galleons for each of you, courtesy of the Ministry. Go out and spend in the shops. Keep the economy going. They'll be having a grand opening sale on wand holsters at a new establishment in town for duelling supplies. Above all, I ask that you simply be ready for anything."

Harry took a pouch along with all the others as they filed out of the staff room. He exchanged glances with Pansy as they left. She looked very concerned.

"Watch it, Pansy, or you'll get wrinkles," he teased.

She stopped in her tracks. "Don't you dare suggest such a thing, Harry. I ought to hex you good." She touched her fingers to her face, feeling near her eyes and forehead.

"If you want to be immobilized and tickled, you're welcome to try."

Pansy shuddered. "That's awful. You know how ticklish I am."

"I do."

"Then why would you threaten me with it?"

Harry laughed. "Pansy, you just said you ought to hex me."

"I was going to be nice about it!"

Harry snorted. The absolute sincerity in her voice was matched by the shining of her dark green eyes. He didn't believe a bit of it.

They were far enough away from the rest of the prefects by now that they could turn down a side corridor without being noticed. Harry reached out and took Pansy's elbow. He pulled gently, veering her to the side and past a painting of three wizards wearing white, grey, and black robes respectively who were always arguing. A little further on there was a suit of armour, and beyond that a plain wooden door.

Harry guided Pansy inside and locked the door behind them. He never used a simple Locking Charm any more. He used his Locking Hex every night before bed, so it was by sheer habit that he booby-trapped the door with a Full-Bond Bind. When he turned and saw Pansy looking at him with something approaching awe, he flushed self-consciously.

"What?"

"That's not any Locking Charm I've ever heard."

"It's something a little more esoteric."

"You've been talking to Tracy again, I see."

"Well yes, but that's hardly the point."

"What is the point?"

"Constant vigilance. So what do you think about this idea of patroling the village?"

Pansy harrumphed. "I sure hope no Death Eaters come at me. I'm dangerous when I try to cast Charms."

Harry laughed. "That's the spirit!"

"I can't believe they're expecting us to go into combat. We're not even half-qualified wizards! At least the upper students have taken the OWLs. They're sending us fifth-years to our deaths!"

"I'm sure it won't be that bad," Harry said reassuringly. "The Aurors will be only an Apparition away."

"Unless the Death Eaters put up Anti-Apparition fields. They can do that, you know."

"Yes, but it takes a fair bit of work, and the teachers will be here too. We'll be able to hold down the fort while we wait for help to come."

"So stupid," she complained. "Why don't they have more Aurors?"

"I don't know, Pansy. I wish I knew."

"You know, this isn't a conversation we couldn't have had in the common room," she said pointedly. "Why'd you drag me all the way in here?" She ran her fingers through her hair, tucking back a stray lock as she did so. "Change your mind about asking me out, have you?"

Harry started to flush and instantly deflected the heat.

"The way you keep on about it, I'm starting to think you want me to," he shot back.

"Don't think I haven't prepared a response for when you do."

"Of course you have."

"So what is it?"

"I think I'm going to ask out Laine."

"Excellent choice, Harry. Now, Laine loves butterbeer. Her favourite Qudditch team is Holyhead. She loves Lyranna Erato and Christinia Drade. Her best subject is Charms, her worst is Ancient Runes. She went to the Yule Ball with Thomas Lapointe, a sixth year now. She did not kiss him and made him out to be a wild animal during the course of the night. She hasn't gone out with anyone else since."

"She's also got a crush on me."

"Yes, well, there is that, but she told me some time ago that she wasn't going to let it interfere with being your friend. She wanted you any way she could get you. Frightfully mature attitude for a fourth year, don't you think?"

"Just a bit."

Pansy continued to tell Harry everything he could ever possibly want to know about Laine, not realizing that he probably wouldn't retain most of it. When they reached the common room, Harry took a deep breath to steady his nerves.

"Go get her, champ," Pansy said with a giggle.

Harry strode across the room to the round table where Laine sat with Ginny, Arcen, and Lucas. He had to do this quickly before he got distracted or lost his nerve. His heart was thudding in his throat, and he felt cold in his guts like he'd swallowed a blizzard. He liked Laine and knew that she liked him. So why wasn't asking her out any easier?

"Hi, Laine. Would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me? When they announce the first visit, I mean? Maybe we could have lunch in the Three Broomsticks and walk around the village together."

Merlin, he was babbling. He closed his mouth and stared at her, hoping that the agony of this moment would soon be over.

Laine smiled at him, and a warmness flooded from his head down to thaw the block of ice in his stomach.

"That sounds delightful, Harry. Yes, I'd very much like to."

"Great."

"Any idea when that weekend will be?"

"Soon."

One word sentences were about all Harry felt he could manage at the moment.

"Then it shall be a surprise. I love surprises."

"Okay."

It was done. Harry could barely believe it. He inclined his head and moved as fast as he could to the dormitory.

Pansy followed him as far as the entrance to the dormitories. Harry sort of waved at her, his brain still not working enough to control his mouth. She gave him a withering glare and pointed down the boys' hall. He moved, and she was right behind him.

In the dormitory, Draco was sitting at his writing desk, head bent, quill scratching away. He glanced up at Harry's entrance, did a double-take upon seeing Pansy, and wiped his quill clean of ink with a sigh.

"I can see I'm not going to get my Arithmancy done. You'd better let me copy, Harry. All right, go ahead with whatever it is."

"Harry just asked out Laine Slater."

"Did she turn him down? Is that why he hasn't said a word yet?"

"She said yes, Draco Malfoy."

"Good for her. Well done, Harry. Now may I go back to my Arithmancy?"

"No. Guess what the prefects have to do."

"Attend a lesson on being smarmy gits?"

"Patrol Hogsmeade!" Pansy exploded. "Instead of hanging out and having fun, we have to walk the length of the village all miserable day. We're to be on guard for an attack, even though the date is still a secret."

"Voldemort is sure to have a plan ready to go when he does learn of the date."

"The teachers will be on the perimeter, but we've got to take charge of the students and get them back to the castle."

"Which is what bum-snogging prefects do, yes? Responsible for the behaviour of students when teachers are not present?"

"She warned us to be prepared to duel with Death Eaters!"

"She?" Draco's brow furrowed. "McGonagall?"

"Umbridge! The Minister made another Decree. He made this new position of Security Officer and put her in it. She has final say on all such matters."

Draco smirked. "What did Dumbledore say?"

"He was livid. Said that Fudge had gone too far."

"I say it's about time someone starting taking security seriously around here."

"Tell me about it," Harry agreed. "A Death Eater infiltrates the school and nearly steals the Philosopher's Stone. That same Death Eater also successfully broke into Gringotts, by the bye. A giant bloody basilisk gets set loose on the castle by a possessed first year, coupled with a completely incompetent Defence instructor. The best lesson we got that year was-"

Theo's dad.

Harry felt a sharp pang in his chest. Mr. Nott had treated Harry as though Theo had been inviting him by for years. He'd been a really smart man. His instruction on curses and counter-curses had been very easy to grasp. He'd known so much, and Harry found himself missing the man, despite his bad choices.

"Are you okay, Harry?" Draco said.

"Just thinking about Mister Nott."

Draco's face clouded. "He's a dead Death Eater. Thinking done."

Pansy looked sad. "He was our tutor before Hogwarts, you know. Taught us our letters, our numbers, magical history (mostly of the family sort), magical theory, and so very much more. He could even help me to understand things, and I'm a mediocre student at best. I miss him."

"He betrayed Harry. He went back to a life of slavery."

"He was an old man who was afraid of dying. You know a single Cruciatus would have killed him."

"I don't blame him for being afraid," Harry said. "Voldemort is pretty scary. As much as I might wish that Mister Nott had chosen differently, I don't really blame him. I'm just a kid. Who would think a kid like me could defeat the most evil Dark Lord ever?"

"He's not worthy of such forgiveness," Draco said harshly. "My father was brave enough to take a chance. Nott could have done the same."

"Are you rejecting him, then?" asked Pansy. "Completely and utterly?"

"I am."

"I wonder if you could make a better decision."

"I am afraid of what Voldemort will do to me if he catches me. My father raised me to respect his tremendous power and immeasurable capacity for cruelty. I knew that if he ever came back, we would have to bow down, but we were given a chance for redemption with Harry. He can defeat Voldemort. My father thought the odds were good enough. I have faith in him."

"Nott is hardly the only one who chose wrong. Look at Crabbe's father."

"He was scared too," Harry said. "So was Goyle's dad, for that matter. One chose right, one chose wrong. They're all scared. _We're_ all scared, but it doesn't change the fact that we have to stand up anyway."

* * *

Professor Umbridge had dismissed Harry and a few of his friends early from the first meeting of the Ministry Youth duelling club because they were already good at the first spell she was teaching, the Disarming Charm. She hadn't wanted them to lounge around and set a bad example for the other students. By the next meeting, she'd found a way for Harry and the more advanced spellcasters to participate. Sometimes people weren't making the wand motions precisely enough. Others had a sloppy grip. While everyone else worked to get a handle on the very basic spell, Harry and the others wandered through the group offering advice and encouragement. Most of the group could now cast the spell flawlessly and without effort. Once they'd gotten consistency, they'd worked on speed and repetition.

"Hem, hem. We have practiced the Disarming Charm now for two weeks. You have all done well to master it. Now we begin a new phase of our learning. How many of you fancy yourselves pretty handy with your hexes?"

A few students raised their hands.

Umbridge looked skeptical. "Hem, hem. Surely you are all too modest. Come now. Who knows a few good spells that can cause a little havoc? I'm not asking as your teacher. Tonight, in this room, I don't care about the rules. Death Eaters will not follow the rules. They'll use deceit and treachery to kill you. If you're going to stay alive, you'll need every weapon. Now, who can cast a few good hexes?"

Most of the students raised their hands.

"That's better. I've got a list here, and we're going to see see how well you each can do. Form a line."

They did so. Umbridge waved her wand, conjuring a wooden target for each student. She glanced down at her clipboard.

"The Jelly-Legs Jinx. You will cast until I tell you to stop. Yes, Mister Goyle?"

"What's the incantation?"

"I will not be telling you any of the words, nor showing you the wand motions. If you don't know, watch the others and try your best. The Jelly-Legs Jinx, if you please."

" _Os comme gelee!_ "

Harry, Draco, Daphne, and Millie were all good at this one. They cast it several times as Professor Umbridge wandered down the line, observing and taking notes on her clipboard.

"The Jelly-Fingers Jinx."

" _Doigts comme gelee!_ "

"The Jelly-Brain Jinx."

" _Psyche comme gelee!_ "

"The Babbling Hex."

" _Blatherschite!_ "

"The Tripping Jinx."

" _Lapso Accidere!_ "

"The Impedient Jinx."

" _Impedimentia!_ "

"The Full-Body Bind."

" _Petrificus totalis!_ "

"The Binding Hex."

" _Obstringere!_ "

"The Silencing Charm."

" _Silencio!_ "

"The Stunning Spell."

" _Stupefy!_ "

"The Reductor Curse."

This one was a bit nastier. It was the first properly destructive spell on Umbridge's list.

" _Reducto!_ "

"The Blasting Curse."

" _Bombarda!_ "

"The Severing Curse."

" _Diffindo!_ "

"The Slicing Curse."

" _Ginsuto!_ "

Professor Umbridge went through two dozen spells. Her quill never stopped scratching. They had finished the Inversion Jinx when she glanced at her watch.

"That appears to be our time for tonight. I'll see you back next Tuesday. In the meantime, I want you to practice the spells we've covered tonight. I expect to see improvement from each of you. Dismissed."

Harry walked next to Laine as the Slytherins headed down to the common room. With his busy schedule, most of their together time was spent walking from here to there.

"I'm knackered," she said, fighting off a yawn. "I don't think I've ever cast so much magic in one day."

"She worked us over pretty good. You didn't seem to do so badly."

"I didn't know half of those spells. You looked pretty comfortable though."

It was true. Harry had known all of the spells that Umbridge called off tonight. He'd learned even the more offensive spells for the tournament.

"You'll get there. All you need is a little practice.

"I joined the Ministry Youth because you said it was a good idea. I'm atrocious at duelling, but I keep trying because I know you don't want to see me quit."

"I'm flattered."

"You should be. Lucas told our parents what we've been doing, and they're very upset at me. Unladylike, they called it, just like I said."

Harry resisted the urge to snort with derision. "I call it being responsible for one's own safety."

"So did I. I don't want to be helpless if the Death Eaters come for me."

"And I want to be prepared for when I go looking for them."

"That's so brave, it might have been said by a Gryffindor."

"It's Slytherin ambition to see my parents avenged."

"One of the many things I admire about you, Harry."

"What are some of the other things?" he asked teasingly.

"Wouldn't you like to know," she laughed right back at him. 

* * *

Harry was not looking forward to the Hogsmeade weekend. Last year, it had been a chance to visit the village with his mates, sneak some time with Remus and/or Sirius, and have a good snog with Padma. While he would be seeing the Marauders for some moonlight marauding, Saturday would be occupied with patrolling with the prefects. As part of the authority structure, they were to assist the staff in maintaining vigilance over the safety of the student body. He was part of the security precautions. Aside from his date with Laine, he would have a full day of patrolling. He got to walk around and spend the Ministry's gold. He resolved to buy Laine something nice for putting up with his mandatory roving.

Professor Dumbledore stood up at breakfast on Saturday, one week into October and raised his hands. The room fell silent.

"Those of you with signed permission forms may visit Hogsmeade today."

The cheering was tumultuous. The weekend was earlier than was customary, but Harry instantly surmised that it was for security purposes. Doing the unexpected, the bold, could give one an advantage -- sometimes. Boldness for boldness' sake was a Gryffindor trait, but the strategic bit of boldness could advance Slytherin plans.

After breakfast, everyone rushed to their common rooms for cloaks and hats. Harry met Laine by the fireplace. She'd put on a light grey cloak with white fur trim. She had on a big hat of the same and wore a muff in front.

"Hi, Laine. You look very nice."

"Thank you, Harry. That's a very nice broach."

"This old thing?" It was one of the many interesting tidbits Harry had found while cleaning Grimmauld Place. Most of the jewelry they'd found was done in the Black family crest; quite a few other pieces had been inspired by snakes. Harry had kept an emerald set in silver, surrounded by snakes.

"Where did you get it?"

"Sirius' mother gave it to me." A slight distortion of the truth.

"How thoughtful of her."

"She wasn't using it anymore. Shall we go?"

They meandered on their way up to the front door and out on to the path. The Slytherins made certain to apply the Self-Warming Charm before venturing out into the elements. The wind seemed to blow right through them anyway as they hurried down to the village.

Until they reached the front gates of the castle, there was silence between them. The cold had stolen all of his words.

"Hey, Harry, I've got an idea."

"What's that?"

"You know the train platform?"

"I'm reasonably familiar with it, yes."

"Let's go crawl under it."

"Under it? What for?"

"For cover. Nobody will be able to see us there."

"That's good why?"

"So we can have a private snog."

"Oh." Harry felt himself starting to blush.

Laine giggled. "Oh, it's just too easy. You're so cute when you're embarassed."

"Er-"

"Come under the platform," she said persuasively. "I'll give you something to turn red about."

While this hadn't exactly been his plan, Harry couldn't think of any good reason not to go with her, so he did. Normally students crossed the train tracks and passed the platform on the way to town. There were no other buildings here, just a few scattered trees.

It was easy to slide a few boards out of the way and crawl under the platform. It was much less windy in here. Harry drew his wand and cast a Cushioning Charm on the grassy ground. He sprawled out and looked over at her.

"I believe you mentioned something about wanting a snog?" he said cheekily.

"Why yes, I believe you're correct," she replied with a grin. "Are you ready for me?"

"I am."

"Not likely, but here I come anyway."

Laine sprang at him and bounced slightly on the Cushioning Charm. He reached out to catch her as she tried to grab ahold of him. This of course resulted in catastrophic injury.

"Ow!" they said together as they bumped heads.

"Sorry," she said.

"No, my fault."

"Okay."

Harry laughed, the pain fading away. He hugged Laine, stroking her hair.

"You've got a hard head," she complained.

"Hard enough to deflect a Killing Curse."

"That's not funny."

"I think it's called a defence mechanism."

"Your head?"

"Making jokes about it. It's supposed to be a way of dealing with things. Sirius talked about it. There's humour in everything, no matter how dark the joke may be. It may be a bit impolitic to share the laugh at times, but laughter is good for the human spirit. It reminds us that life is worth living, even when it really doesn't seem like it sometimes."

"Sounds like you listened pretty good when Sirius spoke."

"What he said made sense. He knows what he's talking about. Do you know he makes jokes about his time in prison? About the old, awful _prison_. He laughs at it. Not good jokes, nothing jolly, but he laughs."

"He's quite a man," Laine said, "but you'll do until I get old enough for him without it being creepy."

"That would be about never."

"Hey, we're magical. What's a couple decades when you live for at least a century?"

"I thought you wanted to snog," Harry said, changing the subject.

"Oh yes, that."

Laine ran her fingers through his hair, sending tingles down his spine. She pulled his head up as she leaned down. Their lips met in a sweet, gentle kiss. Harry ran his hand up her arm to her head. He traced a finger down her cheek, and she exhaled sharply through her nose. She kissed him more passionately.

Time passed quitely enjoyably. Harry's lips grew swollen from the long bouts of mashing. A certain other part of his body also became swollen, and Harry did his best to keep Laine from learning about that. He made a note to inquire amongst the upper boys if there were a concealment spell suitable for such an occasion.

They were relaxing for a moment, simply holding each other, when suddenly Harry heard the sound of footsteps. He glanced back lazily through the slats of the platform and drew his wand with a whispered swear.

"What is it?"

"Trouble. Those look like Death Eaters. I'll draw them off. You run and get help."

Of course those idiots would pick _now_ to start trouble. Right when things were going so well, too. Oh well. He'd just have to ask Laine out on a make-up date if he lived through this.

Harry reached into his pocket and drew out the invisibility cloak that had once been his father's. He fastened it around his shoulders, noting that it was much closer to fitting him than it ever had been before. He pulled up the hood and concealed his wand in the oversize sleeve.

Slowly, Harry climbed the steps to the platform. Death Eaters, all right. Five of them. They were darting from tree to tree, clearly hoping to sneak up on the village. Harry was determined that they would advance no further.

Without warning, Harry began raining down hexes and curses on the black-robed men. Three of them were incapacitated when one finally managed to strike back. He sent a spell back at the platform. It moved slowly, but Harry recognized it and began to run.

The bolt of yellow energy slammed into the train platform, and the air began to hum as it started glowing. Harry leapt off, but the explosion caught him in mid-air, propelling him several metres. Thankfully he missed impacting with any trees and landed roughly in the tall grass.

He stood up and cast a Full-Body Bind at the nearest Death Eater, who was trying to revive the one Harry had Stunned. He dodged a well-aimed spell from the other, who was getting amazingly close, even though Harry was invisible.

He had to dodge mid-way through his next Stunner, and soon that third Death Eater had freed the remaining two while Harry tried to get out of the line of fire.

Fortunately Harry had survived long enough for help to arrive. Professor Flitwick came charging into view, a more welcome sight never seen.

"Only five!" he challenged boldly. "I won't even break a sweat."

Flitwick didn't waste time with hexes or curses. At his command, the trees reached down and seized the Death Eaters. Unable to point their wands, they were harmless.

"Well done, sir!"

"Potter! What the blazes are you doing out here?"

"Holding off trouble. They started to get the better of me."

"Collect their wands. We'll hold them until the Aurors get here."

"Death Eaters! Vanish!"

"Stop them!" Harry yelled.

But it was too late. The five prisoners Disapparated, leaving the trees holding empty air.

"Damn!"

"Get back to the village, Potter. They may still be out there."

Harry ran.

Professor McGonagall was pointing her wand at a building that looked to be in the process of collapsing. A line of third years ran past her. Harry whipped out his wand and pointed it at the broken support. With a wave, the support was repaired and duplicated. Harry sent one to either side, and once they were in place, Professor McGonagall lowered her wand.

"Well done, Mister Potter. Fifteen points to Slytherin. Get the rest of them out and back to the castle now."

"Professor Flitwick caught five Death Eaters, but they got away. He thinks they're still out there."

"Thank you, Potter. Take care of the students."

Harry urged the dozen students remaining to run for the castle. Everyone else had already evacuated. He hurried and caught up just as the last were crossing over on to the protected grounds.

"Harry!" Pansy looked panicked. "Oh, thank Merlin you're safe."

"What a day. Has anyone seen Laine?"

"I thought she was with you."

"We got separated."

"I'm here."

Laine threw her arms around Harry and squeezed him mightily.

"You stupid, brave wizard! Five Death Eaters! What were you thinking? You could have been killed!"

"What?" Pansy, Draco, Daphne, Tracy, and several other people all said at once. A babble of questions broke out.

"Yes, five Death Eaters," Harry admitted, "but I got the drop on them. I almost had them, but it's a good thing Professor Flitwick showed up when he did."

"Five of them?"

Everyone was pouring into the Great Hall. Prefects were counting students. Up at the high table, Cedric was consulting with the other seventh year prefects.

Harry saw Professor Umbridge enter and move to speak with Dumbledore. The old wizard's face grew sad, and then resolve returned.

"Attention please, there must be silence. Mister Diggory, what is the count?"

"All students present and accounted for, Headmaster."

"Excellent. Well done, prefects. Ten points to you all."

Harry certainly wouldn't turn down ten points, even if all houses got the same boost.

"Our best understanding of the situation is that two groups of Death Eaters approached the village on foot from either direction. One group was spotted by Professor Sinistra and captured by Professor Sprout with her always enjoyable Tangling Trance Blossoms. Ladies, I wish I could give you house points, but I'm afraid you'll have to do with special awards."

"Only if Mike gets one too," Sprout called over the applause.

"Beg pardon?"

"Mike. The Trance Blossom, like so many other of the interesting species we study in Herbology, displays sentient behaviour. It is therefore only right that it have a name."

"You chose Mike?"

"It's a perfectly fine name. It could have been Alvin."

"That's a dorky name," Daphne whispered. "What about Ronald?"

Harry suppressed a snicker of laughter.

"We shall see what the school rules say about awarding non-wizards. As I said, there were two bands of Death Eaters. The other group encountered Mister Potter of Slytherin House-"

Louder cheering than for the professors erupted.

"In a great display of skill and ability, Mister Potter managed to prevent them from doing any harm. It is a deed quite worthy of fifty points."

There was more deafening cheering.

"What I am about to tell you should not in any way detract from the pride we all feel in our staff and prefects, but it appears as though the attack on Hogsmeade was a feint, a diversion. There's been trouble in Diagon Alley."

Whispers broke out all across the hall.

"It was a brazen strike. People were killed, shops razed, and shopkeepers kidnapped. I don't have any more details than that. The Ministry has told us all that it can."

From the firm set of Dumbledore's face, Harry was willing to bet that the Ministry had a lot of explaining to do. All the good feeling he'd had in light of the action in Hogsmeade vanished.

* * *

That night after everyone had gone to bed, Harry lay awake. His mind racing, his emotions seething, Harry was still too pumped up to sleep. Over and over, the events of the afternoon played in his head.

Harry suddenly found himself with the urge to talk to Sirius. He hadn't told him about the attack. It was actually a bit surprising that Sirius hadn't tried to call Harry. He rummaged in his trunk for the magic mirror.

"Sirius Black!"

"Harry Potter!"

"Hi, Sirius. Hope I didn't wake you."

"I've been waiting for your call. What took you so long? Been celebrating saving the school?"

"Hah. Not likely. Ancient Runes homework. Earned a cool fifty points for that, though."

"Well done. Tell me what happened."

"Well, I was under the train platform when I heard the Death Eaters."

"What exactly were you doing under the train platform?"

That tale took many minutes in and of itself.

"I see. I'm glad you're moving on after Padma. This is healthy and normal."

"It's been pretty fun so far."

"So there you were, snogging away."

"I heard the Death Eaters approaching. I put on my invisibility cloak, went to high ground, and started hexing them."

"Just tell me one thing. Where in all of this did you consider that taking on five Death Eaters might not be the smartest thing in the world?"

"I knew you were going to ask that. I did think of that, but who else was going to do it? I'm a prefect, and that's what we were supposed to do. I nearly had them."

"A remarkable feat in and of itself. No injuries?"

"Nope. Just a bit panicked now that it's all over. Would you and Moony like some company tomorrow night?"

"Most certainly. You remember how to get past the Whomping Willow, right?"

"I can run right under the branches."

"Meet us in the Shrieking Shack after curfew."

"See you then!"

Harry slept poorly, troubled as he was by dreams of Death Eaters killing and rampaging. He skipped breakfast and actually stayed in bed all day Sunday. He alternately dozed and worked on his Transfiguration essay through the afternoon and evening and only left the dormitory for dinner. From there, Harry snuck out of the school with the greatest of ease. While a boy might raise alarm if seen, nobody would care about a small mammal. He crossed the grounds in his mongoose form, taking it at a dead run. He was downright quick when he wanted to be. He slipped under the sweeping branches of the Whomping Willow and into the tunnel concealed beneath its roots.

In the Shrieking Shack, Harry saw no need to resume his human form. He hopped up on the windowsill and peered out between the boards through the dirty window.

Sirius and Remus Apparated in a few minutes later. Harry hopped down, and now he did change back.

"Harry, good to see you!"

"Thanks, Sirius. How are you, Remus?"

"Oh, I've been better. I think we're actually just in time."

Moony had no sooner finished speaking when he doubled over in pain. Harry and Sirius flashed into their animal forms. With an unearthly howl, Remus turned into Moony, and the night began.

* * *

**SECURITY OFFICER CHANGES PLAN; SAVES LIVES**

by Rita Skeeter

The Ministry of Magic passed Educational Decree Number Twenty-three one week ago, granting authority over all matters related to security to Professor Dolores Jane Umbridge. Already she has made key changes about the traditional Hogsmeade visits, and those changes have saved lives.

Thanks to the gallant heroics of the Hogwarts prefects and teachers, tragedy was averted during the diversionary attack on Hogsmeade village. (For details on the on-going reconstruction of Diagon Alley, turn to page 3.) Ten Death Eaters were prevented from penetrating the perimeter, duelled to a standstill, and forced to retreat by Professors Sprout, Sinistra, and Flitwick. Lending a hand was Slytherin prefect Harry Potter.

"Professor Umbridge gave us some additional responsibility," Mr. Potter told this reporter. "Before we were just supposed to help evacuate in the event of an attack, but Professor Umbridge put us on patrol looking for trouble. Trouble found me, just like it always does. I signalled for help and did my best to hold them off until Professor Flitwick arrived. He did most of the work, really."

It is not the first time in recent weeks that the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, has used new laws to effect improvements at the wizarding school. As recently as 30 August, Educational Decree Number Twenty-two was passed, to ensure that, in the event of the current Headmaster being unable to provide a candidate for a teaching post, the Ministry should select an appropriate person.

"That's how Dolores Umbridge came to be appointed to the teaching staff at Hogwarts," said Rose Brown, junior Assistant to the Minister, last night. "Headmaster Dumbledore had no worthy candidates, and the governors were divided, so the Minister appointed Umbridge. Of course, she's been an immediate success, totally revolutionizing the teaching of Defence Against the Dark Arts and providing the students with real lessons that they'll need to learn in order to survive these Dark times."

Rumors of that updated curriculum have spoken alarmingly of all but establishing an Auror training facility at the school. When questioned about the rigorous, physical demands of the course this year, Brown had this to say. "Security is a very broad area. The Security Officer will be responsible for all aspects, and that includes making sure that students can adequately defend themselves. The recent attack on Hogsmeade village only illustrates the point. In addition to making sure the castle's protections are up to scratch, the Security Officer will have powers to inspect her fellow educators and make sure that they are giving our students the strong education they need in these Dark times."  
  
---  
  
 

The headline of the Daily Prophet was all anyone could talk about at breakfast. While the prefects had spread the word about Umbridge being Security Officer, the knowledge that she could potentially affect their other teachers was new.

"Maybe she'll sack Hagrid for still not being here," Millie said.

"Is Grubbly-Plank not good?" Pansy said.

"Oh, she's perfectly competant. I want him sacked so she'll be our teacher forever."

"Why don't we suggest that to her? We've got to get to class."

"Hey, lay off Hagrid," Harry interjected. "I'm sure there's a very good reason he's not here to share his critters."

"Great, dangerous beasties," Millie muttered.

Professor Umbridge arrived just before the bell, so they did not have a chance to speak with her. They had to hurry down to the dungeons, and they decided to give up on the whole thing.

Weasley glanced up at Draco and Harry as they sat down at their work stations. He said nothing, looking back down at his parchment, which he was scribbling furiously on.

"Behind on the homework, Weasley?" Harry asked casually.

"Shut up, Potter."

Draco chuckled lightly. Any further banter was cut off as Snape closed the dungeon door with an echoing bang. Everybody immediately fell silent.

"You will notice," said Professor Snape, in his low, sneering voice, "that we have a guest with us today."

He gestured towards the back of the dungeon, and Harry saw Professor Umbridge trying to enter the classroom unobtrusively, clipboard in her hand.

"You will pay her no mind and will give me your undivided attention as always. We are continuing with our Strengthening Solution today. You will find your mixtures as you left them last lesson; if correctly made, they should have matured well over the weekend. The instructions are on the board. Carry on."

Professor Umbridge spent the first half hour of the lesson making notes in her corner. Harry ignored her and focused on his potion. This was a tricky one because he had to make a peripheral potion perfectly and then add a precise amount of it to the matured Strengthening Solution. He picked up the powdered dandelion sap and began to measure.

Umbridge got off her stool and approached Snape from behind. "The class seems fairly advanced for their level," she said briskly.

Snape straightened up slowly and turned to look at her. Harry couldn't resist glancing up out of the corner of his eye. Snape looked like he thought Umbridge was a toad too.

"I have high standards for my students."

"A laudible thing, to be sure, and I think the Strengthening Solution is just the sort of thing they should know given the threat we all face."

"Of a certainty."

"Now, how long have you been teaching at Hogwarts?" she asked, her quill poised over her clipboard.

"Fourteen years," Snape replied. His expression was unfathomable.

"You applied first for the Defence Against the Dark Arts post, I believe?" Professor Umbridge asked Snape.

"Yes," said Snape quietly.

"But you were unsuccessful?"

Professor Snape's lip curled.

"Obviously."

Professor Umbridge scribbled on her clipboard.

"You have applied regularly for the Defence Against the Dark Arts post since you first joined the school, I believe?"

"Yes," said Snape quietly, barely moving his lips. He looked very angry.

"Do you have any idea why Dumbledore has consistently refused to appoint you?" asked Umbridge.

"I suggest you ask him," said Snape jerkily.

"Oh, I shall," said Professor Umbridge, with a sweet smile.

"I suppose this is relevant?" Snape asked, his black eyes narrowed.

"Oh yes," said Professor Umbridge, "yes, the Ministry wants a thorough understanding of teachers - er – backgrounds."

She turned away, walked over to Pansy and began questioning her about the lessons.

"Do you feel that the lessons are very difficult?"

"That's not a fair way of saying it," Pansy replied. "Professor Snape expects a lot from us. So yes, the lessons are challenging, but it's not without purpose. We're trying to expand our knowledge of the art of potion-making. You can't do that by brewing a Scintillating Solution every week."

"Well said," Draco chimed in.

"Do you agree, Mister Malfoy?"

"Absolutely. Professor Snape is the best teacher here. He doesn't coddle you one bit. I'm proud of every single mark I earn in his class, because I know I've earned it. I can prove these marks. Ask me to do anything I've tested on, give me a few minutes with my notes, and let me at it."

Professor Snape seemed to have made out well in his inspection, but Professor Umbridge wasn't through shaking things up in her first day on the job. At lunch she stood up and walked out to the front of the high table.

"Hem, hem."

The chatter died down.

"Thank you. I wish to inform you that all student organizations are hereby disbanded."

The uproar was deafening. Umbridge waited patiently. Eventually people wanted answers and allowed her to give them.

"There is not enough seriousness being given to the fact that the world is at war. The chaos caused by only ten Dark wizards during the Hogsmeade weekend is completely unacceptable. You-Know-Who is out there, and you've got to be ready for the Death Eaters when they come again. The Gobstones Club, for example, detracts valuable time that could be better spent learning a counter-curse. The Ministry Youth club will be meeting tonight after dinner here in the Great Hall."

"Does that include Quidditch?" came a yell from the Gryffindor table.

"Quidditch is necessary for maintaining morale. Sport is something the whole school can be invested in and is therefore valuable. If you feel that your group ought to be allowed to reconvene, set up a meeting with me to present your case."

"Well that's a relief," Laine said. "I rather enjoy Quidditch practice."

"Me too," Harry agreed, giving her a wink.

Laine blushed, but she winked back at him.

Umbridge certainly wasn't sitting on her newfound authority. Harry didn't quite know what to think. On the one hand, people did need to take the war seriously, but on the other hand, they needed their diversions too. Right, that was why she'd left Quidditch alone. Her decree was all anyone could talk about as they walked to Transfirguration. Naturally they did not talk in old McGonagall's class, but on the way to Herbology and throughout the work Professor Sprout set them to, everyone wondered what other areas Umbridge would poke her nose into.

* * *

Despite her new duties as Security Officer, Umbridge still found the time to plan interesting meetings of the Ministry Youth.

"Hem, hem. Before we begin, I wish to single out Mister Potter for some words of praise."

Harry lifted his chin slightly as many eyes turned his way.

"During the attack on Hogsmeade, Mister Potter reacted just as I hope any of you would react when trouble strikes. He was prepared for the Death Eaters, and, when he discovered their intrusion, he leapt into action. He concealed himself and used strong magic at the first. He incapacitated several of the Death Eaters and nearly overcame the whole group."

Umbridge paused for a moment.

"The whole group," she repeated. "There were five of them; unthinkable odds. Yet had there only been four, I believe Mister Potter could have defeated them all. He came very close. Fifty points seems so inadequate for such a triumph. That's only ten for each Death Eater he faced."

Umbridge looked at Harry now. "Mister Potter, you have my thanks and the thanks of the Minister. We are very proud of you. You are an example to others."

"Thank you, Professor." Harry hated being singled-out for things he'd had no part in. He despised being the Boy-Who-Lived, but in a situation like this, or a Quidditch match, where he'd done something himself, Harry had no problem at all with the attention.

"Thank _you_ , Mister Potter. Now, when we last met, I had you run through a series of hexes and jinxes. There are a few of you how seem to know how to cast a hex. Would the following students please step forward? Potter, Malfoy, Greengrass, Bulstrode, Palce, Bletchley, Chandler, Bole, Boot, Corner, Rookwood, Weasley, Weasley, Diggory, and Summerby."

Harry moved up with the others.

"I require your help, gentlemen and ladies. After the Disarming Charm, the next best spell to know is a strong Shield Charm. We will practice the Protego Charm. Does anyone not know it? Yes, Mister Malfoy?"

"Professor Moody made sure we knew how to cast it."

"Very well. Let's see how closely you all paid attention to his lessons. Everyone spread out. Would my wonderful assistants please do your best to hex the lot of them?"

"Professor?" Connie Rookwood asked, raising her hand.

"Yes, dear?"

"Will we be able to practice the Shielding Charm too?"

"Of course, dear, but right now, I need you to help the others get it. Once they can cast it well, we'll turn the tables and have you practice shielding while they work on the hexes."

Harry dearly wished that Ron Weasley was in the Ministry Youth. He'd love to have the chance to hex the prat with the full blessing of a teacher (other than Professor Snape).


	13. Mind Magic

This year, Halloween fell on a Tuesday. Everyone was very excited for the feast. The Great Hall had looked grander, but only for the Yule Ball last year. Black and orange decorations were everywhere. Thousands of candles filled the air, not simply levitating sedately in place, but dancing silently to their own song.

In addition to the candles, there were also intricately carved pumpkins decorated with faces. At the Slytherin table, Harry recognized Professors Snape and Vector. He didn't know the bald man with prominent eyes who sported quite the enormous moustache or the witch with the large nose and small ears whose hair reached all the way around the gourd.

"It's Professor Horace Slughorn," Pansy said. "He used to be Potions Master and Head of Slytherin. He's a wonderful old friend of the family. He put Daddy in touch with some business contacts when he first left school. Daddy made a tidy pile of Galleons and showed Grandfather, my mother's father, that he had acumen. It helped smooth things out in their relationship, and Daddy never forgot that Professor Slughorn made it possible. He invites him to dinner quite often."

"Who's the witch?" Harry asked.

"Professor Rachel Moon. She's legendary for using one of the Potions laboratories to brew beer. She wasn't even Potions Mistress; she taught Herbology."

Giant pumpkins taller than a wizard in a hat were in the corners of the room. Perhaps Hagrid had brought them back with him, wherever he'd been. The Professor for Care of Magical Creatures had returned to them that very night. Just as they were all sitting down to eat, the double doors had been thrown open, sending a chill wind lacing through the Great Hall.

"Good evenin', everyone. Looks like I'm jest in time fer supper."

Dumbledore stood up. "Welcome back, Professor Hagrid. Please join us."

"Thank yeh, Professor Dumbledore."

"Oh no," Millie bemoaned under the sudden burst of chatter that filled the room. "There go our Magical Creatures lessons. I was learning so _much_!"

"Where do you think he's been?" Pansy wondered.

Draco caught Harry's eye and gave a slight shake of his head. Harry knew he shouldn't get too in-depth here in the Great Hall where anyone could overhear.

"I hope he's brought you back some interesting critters for you all," Harry said.

"Critters," Millie muttered. "Interesting. Hah! This is going to destroy my study schedule."

"I'll help you make a new one," Tracy said.

"Thanks. Blast Hagrid anyway."

The food was stupendous. Roast beef, pork chops, and baked chicken stuffed with garlic and other yummy things. Mountains of mashed potatoes, bowls of squash, and candied apples that smelled as good as they tasted.

"You know something?" Draco said. "We haven't played a good prank on Weasley since last year. He did look somewhat dashing in those Beauxbatons robes."

"That's true," Harry agreed. "Got something in mind?"

"Not yet. You?"

"Well, there was one thing I've been meaning to use on someone else. Remember when I got shut out of the common room last year?"

"Yeah, Theo's handiwork."

"I think I can recreate the effect."

"Really, Harry?" Daphne said. "None of us had a clue what he'd done."

"Professor Snape showed me the construction of the spell. If we want to have a prank on Weasley, let's lock him out of his own common room."

"Forget Weasley," Draco said. "What a prank on all of Gryffindor."

"Do you remember where their common room is?"

"I think so. It's been awhile since I thought about it."

Harry glanced down the table at the fourth years. Lucas, Arcen, and Jeremiah Goodwinter were sitting with Laine and Ginny. The two girls were giggling about something, and Arcen looked sheepish.

"Hey Laine, why don't you join us?"

"All right, Harry." She picked up her plate and sat between Harry and Draco. 

"Ginny, it's not fair to take your best friend away from you," Draco said with his lazy drawl, "so you might as well join us too. You can have this seat next to me."

"Only if the one next to the security troll is taken."

"What security troll? Don't talk about Goyle like that."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Sometimes it's too easy."

"I know there are some improvements to castle security, but I didn't know about any trolls. Are they out in the Forbidden Forest?"

"No, they're in the girls' loo like that one Quirrell let in first year," Harry couldn't help but say.

A flicker of distress crossed Ginny's face, but it was gone a moment later. "Pass the bread, Draco. Please."

"I wonder what sort of entertainment they have planned this year," Laine said.

"Anything's better than the side-show we had last year," Harry said.

"You would say that. I remind you, you did win."

"Thanks, it had slipped my mind."

Their questions were answered by Pamela Ruthven, the first year.

"Wand Smasher was going to play tonight," she said sadly. "I was keeping it a surprise, but Emma told me that they were cancelled at the last minute."

"By who?" Millie asked.

"Professor Umbridge."

"Umbridge cancelled the entertainment?"

"I guess so."

"It's probably a part of the stepped-up security arrangements," Tracy reasoned. "It's easier to not worry about evil-doers slipping into the school if you minimize the number of people you allow in."

"Emma was really looking forward to seeing you again, Harry," Pamela said. "She sends her best."

"Thanks. Maybe over the holiday we can work something out."

"Hopefully."

"It's not like you fifth years have time to have fun on the holiday. How's OWL year going?" Laine asked.

"Miserable," Draco answered. "Now I know why Elan was never around during our first year. Between double lessons, triple homework, Quidditch practice, and Youth Club, there's barely enough time to eat, never mind sleep. I'm glad I don't have a girlfriend, because I'd never be able to spend time with her."

"That's a lousy attitude, Draco," Daphne interjected. "Studying together would let you get work done and be a good boyfriend."

"But Draco isn't a good boyfriend," Pansy said matter-of-factly. "His priorities are out of order."

"Pansy, don't start."

"Don't boss me around, Draco. You'll only get into more trouble."

"Both of you lay off," Harry said. "I want to enjoy the feast, then we need to plan this prank."

"Prank?" Ginny, sister of the infamous Weasley twins, looked interested. "Do tell."

Harry briefly outlined the spell and what it would do.

"We need to find the Gryffindor common room."

"That's where I come in," Ginny realised.

"We'll go," Laine chimed in. "Won't we, Ginny?"

"Sure. I owe my brother a few for being such an unbearable lump over the summer."

"Let's go during dessert then."

A few of their fellow Slytherins raised eyebrows at the sight of Harry, Draco, Laine, and Ginny all leaving the Great Hall together. Arcen, Lucas, and Jeremiah all seemed rather disgusted. As soon as they left, the whispering started.

In the entrance hall, Harry turned to Ginny. "Lead the way."

The Fat Lady was entertaining several friends when the gang of Slytherins approached. She gave Ginny her full attention.

"I'm sorry, dear, but I can't let you in without the password."

"That's fine. Not why I'm here."

Harry took out his wand and began to trace the patterns that would build the barrier against sound.

"What are you doing?" the Fat Lady asked, sounding slightly alarmed.

"Nothing to worry about, dear," Ginny said brightly. "Just going to give you a bit of a breather. You might catch up on your beauty sleep."

"She needs it," Draco muttered.

"Not everyone is rich enough to invest in Glamour Charms, Draco."

"Now that's just uncalled for," he said indignantly. "I happen to be this handsome naturally."

"Lucky you," she said dryly.

"Hey now!"

Harry tried to tune them out. He wanted a barrier that would block sound in both directions. That was a bit trickier than one that was unidirectional. He made three tapping motions and twisted his wand to close off the spellform. It was done.

"How will we know if it worked?" Draco asked. "We can't test it, because we don't know the password."

"It worked. I'm not sticking around to watch."

"But that's half the fun."

"And double the chance of getting caught."

"Once they take down the spell, the Fat Lady will tell them it was us anyway."

"She won't know us. Only Ginny."

"If she knows her by name."

"She's the red-haired Gryffindor girl who turned to Slytherin. It won't be too hard for them to figure out it was Ginny."

"I didn't do anything," Ginny said instantly, looking extremely innocent. Harry couldn't believe how wide her brown eyes were.

"I believe her."

"In any case, let's get out of here. Fun's over. We have homework to do."

"Wasn't this your idea in the first place? Where's your sense of mischief, Draco?"

"I gave it the year off so as to study more effectively."

Pranking concluded, Harry and the Slytherins retired to the common room. They would just have to hear the stories on the Hogwarts grapevine. Several hours of homework passed, and Harry was able to catch up on his reading for Defence and Arithmancy as well as get his Charms essay finished. Satisfied with his academic efforts, Harry went to bed.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

He was in a dark hallway, striding confidently in the flickering torchlight. He emerged into a cavernous room deep in the heart of his fortress. No sunlight ever entered here.

The prisoners had all been brought and chained to the floor at the neck. The chain was only a metre long, so they were forced to kneel. They were dripping wet. Some Death Eater must have been considering his Lord's delicate nose and blasted them with a jet of water. However, he had not considered his Lord's floor. At least it was stone.

He walked up to the dais where the implement of sacrifice was waiting for him on the stone altar. Rivulets of dried blood stained the sides and surface. He ran a hand over it almost lovingly. It had been a long time since he had properly celebrated this ritual. Tonight he would kill Mudbloods and blood traitors alike.

His Death Eaters were not permitted to know this rite. With a wave of his wand, the entrance to the room was sealed as the rock melted over. He was alone now with his guests.

"Welcome. You have the great honour to be with me tonight as I celebrate the holiday. Though you are Mudbloods and traitors, I have allowed you to be here. Such is the generosity of Lord Voldemort."

All of the prisoners shivered.

"Tonight we are going to purify you. Your magic will coalesce and burn away the Muggle taint. It will be beautiful."

He gestured with his wand, and the first prisoner's chain came loose from the floor. It detatched from his neck and wrapped around his wrists and ankles. With another gesture, he was lifted into the air and dropped roughly on the altar. The chains fastened to the stone, arching the man and exposing his torso.

He picked up the knife gently. He tested the edge with a quick slice across the sacrifice's arm. The man screamed.

"Silence," he commanded. "Is this how you face the next great adventure, Fortescue?"

The hour began to chime midnight. With a practised hand, he carved the runes in the pale flesh. He began to chant, and Fortescue began to scream as the runes glowed an evil, poisonous yellow. The very air began to glow, points of light hovering in the rune circle. He was thrashing now, and the light was nearly blinding.

He reached out his hands and cupped the ball gently. Bringing it reverently to his lips, he sipped. The light poured into his body, the whole globe going at once. The thrill, the rush, the intoxication.

When he came back to himself, the terrified whimpering of the other grated on his ears. It was a music more beautiful than a thousand shrieking daemons.

Fortescue still thrashed and moaned in his bonds on the altar. The trickles of blood from the runes carved into his chest had been burned away. The cuts were cauterized, and the symbols still glowed.

The euphoria of consuming the man's magic was fading. This one was of no more use. He raised the dagger high. The air whistled as he stabbed downward, the blade sinking into the heart.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Harry came awake with a horrified urge to vomit. His scar throbbed so much it felt like he was bleeding. He was so dizzy he couldn't even sit up.

Voldemort was murdering people. Sacrificing them. The old prison, so stained with human torment, had fresh blood soaking into its foundation.

His head felt like it was about to split open. He clapped his hands to his forehead, trying to hold his skull together. He fought back tears as all manner of vulgarity ran through his mind. The mental image of Voldemort actually being molested by a rabid tiger managed to elicit a chuckle, and the pain receded slightly.

He needed to tell someone what was going on. There was no more need to plan a rescue mission. The hostages taken in the raid on Diagon Alley would all be dead before much longer.

He reached up for the magic mirror that was stuck to his headboard.

"Sirius Black!"

"Harry Potter! Harry, what's wrong?"

"I had another one of those dreams, Sirius. I could see him; in his fortress. He was killing his prisoners. Fortescue is dead."

"Are you okay?"

"No, not really. He didn't just kill them. He did this weird ritual. I think he sucked out their magic and absorbed it."

"He's trying to increase his magical powers?"

"That's what it looked like. He didn't have any of the Death Eaters around."

"He wouldn't want to teach them how to grow powerful enough to challenge him, but back to you. It's your scar, right?"

"Yeah. Hurts like anything."

"Go to the hospital wing. I'm on my way."

Harry pushed away a stab of guilt. "No, I'll be okay. You don't have to come up in the middle of the night. I'm not injured."

Sirius looked very skeptical. "If you're sure."

"I am. Thanks, though. Can you make sure the word gets to the right people about the prisoners?"

"I'll see to it." Sirius yawned. "In the morning."

"In the morning?!"

"We still have no idea where the old prison is. I doubt that suddenly needing to prevent murder will miraculously let us figure it out. It's not that I'm callous, but there's nothing to be done."

"I suppose."

"You get up and see Madam Pomfrey. Wake up Draco and have him make sure you get there."

"He'll hate being woken up."

"That's the whole point."

"Good night, Sirius."

"Take care, Harry."

Harry pulled on last night's trousers and shoved his feet in his slippers. He went over to Draco's bed and tried to pull back the curtain. It wouldn't budge. Stupid protective enchantments.

Harry raised his wand and spent a very annoyed fifteen minutes trying to break through his best mate's defences. He had no success. Dimly, randomly, he recalled that Ginny's older brother Bill was a curse-breaker. Maybe a conversation with him would be in order.

Giving up his attempts as a bad job, Harry considered the closed curtains of Crabbe and Goyle's beds. He'd never wake either of them up. He pulled on a robe and his cloak and headed out on his own. The trip up to the hospital wing was quiet, and he pushed open the door to see an empty desk.

Having seldom been here when someone else wasn't summoning Madam Pomfrey, he was at first uncertain what to do. There was no bell to ring for service. He was just about to leave when Madam came bustling in.

"Good evening, Mister Potter." Despite the late hour, Madam seemed as chipper and cheery as ever. "What brings you here?

"Bad dreams. Really bad. My scar hurts too."

"Hmmm. Well, let's have a look at you then. Have a seat."

Madam cast several spells on him, and several times various parts of his body glowed different colours.

"Well, there's nothing wrong with you physically, but your auras are six different ways of messy. I'd like to keep you for observation."

Resigned, for Madam never let anyone go whom she didn't have to, Harry reached for the hospital-issue pyjamas with a great sigh.

"No potions, Mister Potter. I'm going to be monitoring your sleep, though, so there's nothing to worry about."

"Yes, ma'am."

Why couldn't she have given him a potion? Harry tried not to let it bother him. Sleeping potions, and the dreamless sleep especially, could be very addictive. Madam was just being cautious. Harry did take it a fair amount.

Harry had been laying there for perhaps ten minutes, trying to get back to sleep, when the door to the hospital wing opened and Sirius walked in.

"Sirius! What are you doing here?"

"I couldn't sleep. I figured I might as well come check on you."

"I said you didn't have to."

"That's the funny thing about being a parent," Sirius said. "You do things even when you don't have to. You do them because you want to."

Despite himself, Harry was really happy to see his godfather. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it. How do you feel?"

"Head still throbs a bit. It's getting better."

"I'm glad. Don't worry about a thing. I'm right here."

Secure in that knowledge, Harry pulled the covers up to his chin, pleased now that Madam hadn't given him any potions. They would have put him right out, and he would missed Sirius' arrival. He was fast asleep in moments, his dreams untroubled.

* * *

Wednesday morning came too soon. Harry's head was thick enough to dull a sword, despite not taking any potions. Sirius was gone, perhaps to the loo. Harry waited impatiently for Madam Pomfrey to come release him. Surely he'd feel better if he ate some breakfast.

"Well, Mister Potter, there was nothing out of the ordinary last night. I had the elves launder the clothes you came in, but you'll need to go down to your dormitory for your books."

"Where's Sirius?"

"He slept in that chair there until about dawn, then he went to go see the headmaster. Would you prefer breakfast here or in the Great Hall?"

"Here, please." Harry was hungry, and eating in the hospital wing was faster than going down to the house table. He was only slightly disappointed that Sirius wasn't there. He hadn't expected him to come at all.

After a light breakfast of scrambled eggs, toast, and a glass of orange juice, Harry did feel much better. If he were going to go to his Charms class, he would need his books. Harry dressed himself and headed down to the dungeons. In the common room, he saw the concerned expressions of his friends and knew he would have to explain.

"Hospital wing," he said, speaking first. "Went for a headache, and Madam wouldn't let me out. Said I wasn't eating right and went on about how important nutrition is, especially during the OWL year."

"Feeling better?" Tracy asked.

"Much. Are we ready for Charms?"

Harry did his best to take good notes, but Professor Flitwick was not ready for the students to try casting the spell, so it was lots and lots of lecture, and Harry was yawning by the end of class.

All through lunch, Pansy and Draco were sniping at each other. He tuned them out with a meditation he'd learned in his Animagus training. The din of the Great Hall receded, and he was able to find a small moment of peace.

In Transfiguration, Harry tried to pay attention to old McGonagall. Honestly, he really did, but he kept zoning off and staring into space.

"Mister Potter?"

Oh hell.

"Sorry, Professor, what?"

"Do you have somewhere better to be, Mister Potter?"

"No, Professor. I just didn't sleep so well last night."

"Well if you've quite woken up, perhaps you could please attempt today's lesson? Vanish the pig."

Was that all? Harry picked up his wand and waved it lazily at the pig in front of him. It disappeared instantly, all at once. Draco, Pansy, and Daphne all began to applaud.

"Ten points to Slytherin, Mister Potter." McGonagall was again giving him the oddest of looks. "Do try to pay attention. Perhaps even mention some points from my lecture in your essays. Two feet, everyone, on Linus Lovewell and his development of the wand motion that accompanies a Vanishing Spell."

Their last class, Astronomy, was a struggle as well, and by the end of the day's lessons, Harry was knackered. He didn't really feel up to the Youth Club meeting and decided to turn in after dinner.

Harry hadn't told anyone, even Draco, about his recent rash of horrid dreams. The normal nightmares, the ones about the night his parents had been murdered, that caused Harry to wake up screaming, those Draco and everyone else was used to. Certain steps had been taken so that he wouldn't disturb the slumber of his fellow Slytherins. Harry was just as keen that no one be bothered by this new development. He reinforced the Silencing Charms on his bed and skipped the night Astronomy lesson too.

The next morning, Harry didn't feel like he'd had an excess of sleep. He hauled himself blearily to the shower and griped about Ancient Runes.

"Why'd I sign up for this stupid class in the first place? It's memorizing the alphabet. Three years now, three different alphabets."

"The fun stuff comes next year," Draco replied.

"No it doesn't. It's just more of the same, only with Hebrew."

"Yeah, but we'll be doing more advanced structures. You know, this isn't like you, Harry. You usually enjoy Ancient Runes. What's going on?"

"I'm not really feeling like myself."

"You should at least try to go to class. If you feel awful, you can be that much closer to the hospital wing."

That made a twisted sort of logical sense, so Harry groaned and pulled himself to his feet. He picked up his bag, which seemed to be filled with bricks, and headed off with Draco to the common room where the other Slytherins were waiting.

Harry plastered on a smile as big as Gildeory Lockhart's and as fake as his resume as they went up into the castle and made their way to Professor Babbling's classroom. It didn't take long before all the runes began to blend together. They were still rote-learning the basic Celtic alphabet, and Harry couldn't tell triskelion from triquetra. It was all Greek to him.

Harry ate everything in sight at lunch. Maybe his lethargy was due to a growth spurt. Daphne teased him about his girlish figure, and he even had the wit to banter back with her.

After a headache-inducing bout of double Arithmancy, Harry headed to the Potions classroom with a sigh of relief. Here was a chance to centre himself, to focus on the simple task of brewing.

Yet fortune was not smiling on him today. For the first time ever in his career as a student of Potions, Harry bunked it. Fantastically so. He added two level tablespoons of powdered unicorn horn and yelped with surprise as the mixture turned bright blue and began to boil over.

He backed away quickly, trying not to get any of the hot liquid on him. Thankfully his bag was placed safely in the storage cupboard under the bench, but he watched his finely sliced lizard spleens dissolve into a glob of yuck. It had taken him nearly ten minutes to prepare them!

"Mister Potter! What happened?"

"Weasley threw something at me just as I was adding my next ingredient. I don't know what it was, but it fell in my cauldron, and the next thing I knew-"

"That's a lie!" Weasley shouted. He had been watching gleefully at the disaster caused by a Slytherin.

"Thought it would make you look good if one of the best students in class messed up, Weasley?"

"You screwed up your own potion, Potter! I had nothing to do with it! I was in the middle of slicing my lizard spleens-"

"Weasley, be silent. Five points for sabotaging a fellow student, and ten points for creating a safety hazard in my laboratory."

"But I didn't do anything!"

Professor Snape cleaned up the spilled potion with a quick 'Evanesco'. "Half marks, Mister Potter. You were doing quite well last time I checked on you."

Harry wasn't about to argue.

"Thank you, sir."

"If you wish full marks, brew it in your own time. For progressing to the next stage, you may take an aliquot from Mister Malfoy."

Given how Draco was falling behind on his reading for Potions, that might be a mixed blessing.

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

Harry tidied his workspace and waited patiently for the end of class. Weasley turned in his potion with a dark glare at Harry and bolted from the room. Harry sighed, knowing that the unsubtle Gryffindor was setting up an ambush in the corridor. It was honestly so predictable as to be laughable.

"Well, let's go spring his trap."

Harry had his wand at the ready to deflect Weasley's curse, but he was unprepared to be struck by Weasley's fist as soon as he stepped out. He took a punch to the jaw that sent him reeling. He fell to the ground, and his wand clattered away. Weasley fell with him, still hitting him in the face.

He lay there dazed while Crabbe and Goyle hauled Weasley off and began pummeling him. They were hit with magic from Thomas and Finnigan, and the whole situation seemed about to degenerate into a full-fledged battle when Professor Snape immobilized the lot of them.

"Thomas, Finnigan, use of magic in the corridors is forbidden. Ten points each. Weasley, how dare you attack another student like this? And a prefect, no less? Twenty points from Gryffindor, and detention. Tomorrow night."

"But sir! Tomorrow's the last Quidditch practice before the match!"

"Is it?" Snape asked carelessly. "I was not aware. Nevertheless, you will report to the classroom following the dinner hour. I have much work that needs to be done. Now begone."

Weasley glared at the Slytherins as he stalked off. "This is all your fault, Potter."

"Stuff yourself, Weasley."

"Mister Potter, get yourself to Madam Pomfrey. Your eye is blackening quite splendidly. You're also bleeding from the nose. Mister Malfoy, Mister Goyle, and Miss Bulstrode will accompany you."

Snape departed, leaving the Slytherins to take Harry up to the hospital wing.

Zabini tapped Harry on the shoulder. "I happened to glance up right before your cauldron blew up, Hair. Weasley was nowhere near you. Why'd you say he threw something in your potion? What's he ever done to you? I haven't seen him do anything so far. You lot, on the other hand, curse his name hourly and try to frame him."

Harry and Draco glanced at each other. Where did they possibly start explaining Weasley?

"You're new here, so you haven't been around the past four years. You haven't heard Weasley's accusations firsthand. He's been right busy with his studies this year, but he's generally a lot more unbearable. He feels it necessary to tell anyone he can find what a bunch of Dark and evil wizards we are. He's got no proof, just a loud mouth."

Harry would have discussed it more, but his head was throbbing where Weasley had hit him. At least now he had an excuse to be laid up. Draco offered to sit with him and do homework, but that idea was so unappealing that Harry actually shuddered.

"No, I'll try and get some rest if I can. Maybe now she'll knock me out."

"Back again, Mister Potter? What have you done to yourself now?"

"I was bored."

Madam Pomfrey did not render Harry unconscious, much to his regret. He told her about his continued trouble sleeping, and she reluctantly gave him a potion. Not Dreamless Sleep, but at least it was something. Most of his injuries were starting to fade by the time he drifted off.

He slept, finally, that Thursday night, but it was not restful sleep. Madam Pomfrey seemed annoyed that he had not responded well to her treatment. His injuries were healed. If not for her assurances that there was nothing physically wrong with him, he would have suspected an oncoming cold.

He was starting to worry about the weekend Quidditch match against Gryffindor. He skipped all his classes on Friday, laying in bed with the curtains drawn. He needed to be able to function for tomorrow's match. Through sheer force of will, he did not take any potion. It took him nearly two hours to fall asleep, but the long stretch of time, his mind satisfied by his decision to just write off the whole week, was uninterrupted.

* * *

It was time for the match.

Harry woke early on Saturday and went up to breakfast with the team. He didn't feel great, but he didn't feel like he was ready to collapse either. He was even able to laugh and joke with the team, making outrageous boasts about how many points were going to be scored and how spectacularly Gryffindor's new Keeper would fail. Wood had finished school the year before, and with no Quidditch last year, Harry had no idea who the new Keeper would be, but Slytherin's Chasers were outstanding.

When they left the Great Hall and made their way to the changing rooms, Harry felt like he might actually be able to play. There was something about the fresh morning air and the good mood of the student body. It just seemed like a good day for Quidditch, and Harry was determined to not let his team down.

Not that Laine would be a bad substitute. Panning was hopeless, and Laine would beat her to the snitch easily.

They lined up in the tunnel, ready to take to the skies.

"Ready, everyone?"

"Up Slytherin!"

"Introducing first, the Slytherin team! Bletchley! Crabbe! Goyle! Montague! Potter! Pucey! Aaaand Warrington!"

The silver and green flyers shot out of the tunnel and sped a lap around the stands as fast as they could. Bletchley gave the signal, and they all released the pouch of magic dust they were carrying. It streaked along in their wake, leaving four green stripes and three silver. It was pretty enough, but then the lines began forming words.

Slytherin! Up Slytherin! Greatest Quidditch tradition in Hogwarts' history!

Cheers rose from Slytherin and their supporters. Jeers and boos were all the greeting they got from Gryffindor.

"And now, the Gryffindor team! Bell! Frobisher! Johnson! McClaggan! Sheridan! Spinnet! Aaaaand Weasley!"

"What?" Harry knew he must have heard wrong, but sure enough, Ron Weasley came flying out of the gate on his prototype Cleansweep, wearing red and gold Quidditch robes. His ragged, unkept hair whipped around his head. He didn't carry a Beater's bat, and he made a beeline for Harry.

"You look surprised, Potter!"

"I thought Johnson had better sense! I can't wait to see the lads score on you."

"They'll have a tough time doing that, considering I'm not playing Keeper."

"You can't seriously be playing Seeker."

"Did you hear Panning's name called?"

"I just assumed the other new fellow was it. You haven't got a chance against me."

"This Cleansweep Eleven is worlds better than that old Firebolt! Doesn't even compare! I'm going to plough you into the ground and soar off with the snitch. I owe you one for Thursday in Potions."

"Not holding a grudge, I hope, Weasley? You _did_ hit me rather in the face."

"Best. Feeling. Ever."

There was no more time for words. Madam Hooch was calling the teams down to the ground. Bletchley motioned to Harry to step forward as well when the captains moved in for their final instructions.

"Ready to get annihilated, Johnson?"

"Not a bit. You're going to rue the day you flew against the Gryffindor Triplets."

"I'll block your every shot."

"I'll fool you every time."

"Fool or foul?"

"Enough. I want a nice clean match up there. I'll be watching closely, and I just learned a new vision magnification charm I've been itching to try out. Understand?"

The captains nodded their heads. Harry did as well.

"Then get in the sky. Mount!"

They all kicked off into the air, the Chasers looping and circling the centre of the pitch.

"I'm releasing the snitch!"

"Johnson takes first possession!"

The match was on.

Gryffindor's new Keeper wasn't fantastic. He wasn't half bad either. Slytherin's score slowly crept ahead. In a few more minutes, it wouldn't matter if Weasley caught the snitch. Harry might even stop looking and go catch a nap, letting the match go on without him. Did he really have to catch every snitch?

Yes, and there it was.

Harry zoomed off. Weasley, who was closer to it, saw Harry's intent and also leaned over his broom handle. They were neck and neck. Harry could smell the bacon Weasley had eaten at breakfast. The Firebolt, always phenomenal in these situations, slowly inched ahead.

_Kill!_

Harry's arm spasmed, and he veered off-path, losing his lead. White-hot iron was pressing against his forehead, burning right at his scar. He shrieked and clutched both hands to his head. He collapsed across the broom handle, and the Firebolt carried him quickly down, down, into the ground.

As his body bounced along the grass of the pitch, Harry had already lost consciousness. Mercifully, he did not feel when his arm was twisted in ways never intended by God and his legs were folded like a pair of trousers.

* * *

The world came upon Harry blearily. He could barely see, and that only fuzzily. His glasses were missing, but it was also dark. The stiffness of the starched sheets told him exactly where he was.

Madam Pomfrey could work miracles, but even her cures took some time. He didn't hurt anywhere except in his scar. Even that pain had dulled to faint ache. He tested his arms and legs carefully, remembering that he had been flying when he blacked out. A fall from such a height and at such speed would have done some damage. 

He could hear faint voices, and he knew people were close by. Sirius would be here. He reached to the bedside table for his glasses. His groping hand nearly knocked them to the floor, but he clutched them triumphantly and put them on.

With the world back into focus, he pressed his hands to the mattress, intending to sit up. The head rush that accompanied this act nearly made him swoon, but he sucked in a deep breath of air, trying to maintain control. The room, which had for a moment seemed far away down a long tunnel, gradually resumed its proximity. When it seemed he might not faint, he thought twice about standing up. Deciding against it, he listened to the voices, trying to make out who was there.

"Don't give me that garbage, Snape. Harry doesn't fall off his broom. Not even Quirrell's jinxing could buck him."

"I was casting the counter-jinx."

"Why not just kick Quirrell in the face?"

"So uncivilized."

"Sirius, Severus, please calm yourselves." That was Dumbledore. "Sirius, all we know is that Harry fell from his broom and landed rather solidly. Anything further will have to wait for Harry to wake up and tell us."

"I know exactly what happened," Sirius said furiously. "He had another one of those visions, only it wasn't in his dreams. This is the third one, Dumbledore! I told you about this the summer Voldemort returned. Then last week he had another. Sure enough, the bodies of the captives were found the next day. When are you going to start taking things seriously?"

"Believe me, I am. I agree that it most likely was another vision, but before jumping to conclusions about a new phenomenon, I wish to question Harry about what he experienced."

"What do you think it means?"

"I dare not suppose, for to air incorrect speculation would be to close our minds to possibility."

"Enough with the secrets, Dumbledore. This is my godson we're talking about. I'll do everything to keep him safe."

"You know of the prophecy, Sirius. There is a connection between Harry and Voldemort, and I suspect it is more than we imagined. For years now, Harry's scar has been sensitive to his movements. Now we learn that there may be a mental bond as well. Troubling. Most troubling."

"Well what do we intend to do about it?"

"Do? Do? Who says there is anything _to_ be done? I suspect the link will only be broken when the prophecy is fulfilled."

"What can we do in the meantime?"

"Harry must learn to shield his mind. The link cannot be broken, but it can be blocked. I suggest he begin studying Occlumency as soon as possible. Severus has volunteered to teach him."

"Snape?"

"I am a Master Occlumens," Snape said silkily. "I also have some small skill at Legilimancy, and Harry is one of my Slytherins. The matter was never open to question. We take care of our own."

"Of course you do."

"If Harry can protect his mind from assault, then perhaps I will allow him to attend Order meetings next summer. Give him a goal to work towards."

"We will begin tomorrow, if he wakes up."

Harry had heard enough. "Hello? Who's there?"

"Harry!" Sirius came rushing to his bedside. "You're awake!"

"Hey, Sirius. How are you?"

"You're pretty funny for a guy who had four broken limbs. Looks like Madam put you right."

"I feel fine. Just a little weak."

Sirius filled Harry in on the details of his injuries. Honestly, Harry was surprised he hadn't been worse off. The memory of the pain was very vivid, and he was sure it was what dying felt like.

"So what happened to you, Harry?"

"It was another vision. Voldemort was torturing people. More of the prisoners from Diagon Alley, I think."

"I wonder if we're going to get another special delivery," Sirius said.

"Probably. I'm getting worried, Sirius. That's two visions in a week. What if I have one during class?"

"We're going to take care of this. There's a branch of magic called Occlumency, and it lets you defend your mind from magical intrusion. Professor Dumbledore thinks it would be advisable for you to study Occlumency, and I agree with him. Even if it doesn't solve the problem, it's still a skill worth learning."

"Who's going to teach me?"

"Snape. He's damned good at it."

"Snape is good at everything."

"Hah hah. Now that you're awake, you'll have your first lesson tomorrow after dinner."

"Is Dumbledore going to ask me what happened?"

"No, he asked me to fill him in. He went back to his office. Snape is here, though."

"Good evening, Mister Potter. You look none the worse for wear."

"Thank you, sir."

"I feel obliged to forewarn you: Captain Bletchley is very unhappy that you did not catch the snitch."

The match!

"Sir, what happened in the match?"

"Slytherin made a valiant effort, but the score was two hundred to eighty when Weasley caught the snitch. Gryffindor won, two-thirty to two hundred."

Harry wanted to be sick. Slytherin hadn't lost to Gryffindor in years. They would have to win against Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw and hope that either of them were able to beat Gryffindor, and then they would have to have more points overall.

"Thank you, sir. I guess I'd better go get it over with."

"Take care, Harry. I'm only a shout away."

"I know, Sirius. Thanks." He gave his godfather a big hug.

Professor Snape walked him down to Slytherin common room. Before Harry said the password, Snape touched his shoulder.

"Say nothing about the true nature of your accident."

"Yes, sir."

"Report to my office tomorrow night after dinner. I suggest you read up on Occlumency."

"Yes, sir."

Harry spoke the password and entered the common room.

While everyone was glad to see that he was okay, Harry could see that they all wanted to know what had happened.

"Weasley fouled me. Madam Hooch didn't see it, but he punched me in the groin. I couldn't see straight, and down I went."

"That weasel!" Draco spat. "We'll fix him."

"Too right, we will," Bletchley agreed. "Next time, wear a cup."

* * *

The Triwizard Cup looked spectacular on the shelf in Professor Snape's office. It sat next to the House Cup and the Quidditch Cup. With their recent loss to Gryffindor, it might be that the trio of trophies wouldn't be together next year.

"Mister Potter, please sit down. Is everything well?"

"All except the match, sir."

"Yes, well, that is to be expected. We haven't had a loss in quite some time. I suppose it was bound to happen sooner or later. Just don't make it a habit. I have grown accustomed to the sight of those awards. I would sorely miss them. Rest assured, you will be Captain next year. It will be your responsibility."

"Yes, sir."

"How do you find being a prefect? You've had some time to settle into the role by now."

"Everything's great, sir. Meetings are usually boring, but I guess they are important. I'm actually a lot more excited about the team."

"How does the Youth Club go? I have heard diverse opinion on the subject."

"It's pretty good, sir. Umbridge is trying to figure out how rotten we all are, so she's got those few of us who are worth anything helping her hex the lot of 'em."

"An efficient tactic," Snape noted. "Not having too much fun, are we?"

"Not _too_ much fun, sir."

"Good. The club is a necessary group, strictly volunteer, where those who wish can improve their skills. I have more concern with her lectures, where she has a captive audience. The Ministry has chosen to interfere at Hogwarts with great public support. You are being told many things. Some are true. Some are exaggerations or over-simplifications. A few are outright lies. You must not stop thinking for yourselves. Many, I am sad to predict, will."

"I'll keep that in mind, sir."

"Good. You are here tonight to begin instruction in the art of Occlumency. Do you know what it is?"

"It's shielding your thoughts, sir. It seals the mind against magical intrusion and influence, from someone using the art of Legilimency." Even without Professor Snape's admonition to study up, Harry knew the man's penchant for questions and had made sure to learn as much as he could about the subject. The Head of Slytherin had little sufferance for fools and time-wasters.

"Very good, Mister Potter. The Dark Lord is highly skilled at Legilimency, which lets one see into another's mind and extract feelings and memories. This can be useful in many ways. The Dark Lord, for instance, almost always knows when somebody is lying to him. Only those skilled at Occlumency are able to shut down those feelings and memories that contradict the lie, and so can utter falsehoods in his presence without detection." 

It seemed pretty complicated, but Snape sounded like he knew what he was talking about. Snape surely was a master of Occlumency if he could lie to Voldemort. It was this skill, Harry realized, that allowed him to be a spy.

"That's why Voldemort believes you're loyal to him."

"Do not speak his name here, Mister Potter," Snape said swiftly. "It would draw his attention, and that would hardly be productive."

Harry tried not to wince. "Yes, sir. So _he_ can't tell you're lying to him?"

"He cannot, and neither does he know I am using Occlumency at all. Therein lies true mastery. You will not need to achieve quite that level of skill, but you must be able to keep your mind closed to him.

"Could he know what we're thinking right now, sir?" 

"The Dark Lord is at a considerable distance and the walls and grounds of Hogwarts are guarded by many ancient spells and charms to ensure the bodily and mental safety of those who dwell within them," said Snape. "Time and space matter in magic, Mister Potter. Eye contact is often essential to Legilimency." 

"When is it that I'm going to be eye to eye with him again?" Harry couldn't help but ask cheekily.

Snape eyed Harry, tracing his mouth with one long, thin finger as he did so. 

"Given that it has already happened once, we must expect that it can happen again, no matter how well-laid our plans. Not only that, but the usual rules do not seem to apply with you, Mister Potter. The curse that failed to kill you seems to have forged some kind of connection between you and the Dark Lord. The evidence suggests that at times when your mind is most relaxed and vulnerable – when you are asleep, for instance - you are sharing the Dark Lord's thoughts and emotions. Furthermore, strong emotion on the part of the Dark Lord can flood _your_ mind. The Headmaster thinks it inadvisable for this to continue. He wishes me to teach you how to close your mind to the Dark Lord." 

Harry's heart was pumping fast again. He could see into Voldemort's mind? There had to be a way to use that against him.

"But sir-"

"Do not even think of it, Mister Potter! The first step is to protect yourself. Later, if you prove sufficiently adept at the magic, we may consider attempting to break into the Dark Lord's mind, but things would most certainly have to be desperate to contemplate such drastic action. His mind is a powerful weapon, one that we must teach you to defend against. As he is now aware that you are gaining access to his thoughts and feelings -"

"Has he, sir?"

"It is the only reason we can think of for there to be two instances in such a short span of time. We must assume the worst. If he becomes aware of the link and deduces that the process is likely to work in reverse –" 

"He might try and peer into my mind? Could he do more than that, sir? Could he make me do things?" asked Harry nervously. He didn't want Voldemort poking around inside his memories. He didn't even like recalling those memories himself.

"He might," said Snape. "Which brings us back to the reason for tonight's lesson." 

Professor Snape pulled out his wand from an inside pocket of his robes and faced Harry with his wand held at the ready. 

"Stand up and take out your wand, Mister Potter." 

Harry got to his feet, feeling a mix of anxiety and eagerness. He had no idea what to expect. Student and teacher faced each other with the desk between them.

"You may use your wand to attempt to disarm me, or defend yourself in any other way you can think of," said Professor Snape. 

"What are you going to do?" Harry asked, eyeing Snape's wand apprehensively. 

"I am about to attempt to break into your mind," said Professor Snape softly. "We are going to see how well you resist."

Already? Wasn't this moving just a little bit fast?

"You have already shown aptitude at resisting the Imperius Curse. You will find that similar powers are needed for this."

"In what way, sir?" asked Harry, desperate to understand what he had to do.

"There is no way to describe it. Nothing can prepare you. Just as there was no warning with the Imperius, so there is no warning with this mental assault. Close your eyes. Clear your mind. Let go of all emotion. Brace yourself, now. _Legilimens!_ " 

Snape had struck before Harry was ready, before he had even begun to summon any force of resistance. The office swam in front of his eyes and vanished; image after image was racing through his mind like a flickering film so vivid it blinded him to his surroundings.

He was five, watching Dudley riding a new red bicycle, and his heart was bursting with jealousy; he was nine, and Ripper the bulldog was chasing him up a tree and the Dursleys and Aunt Marge were laughing below on the lawn as he seethed in terrified fury at them from the safety of the branches; he was sitting under the Sorting Hat, and it was telling him he would do well in Slytherin; his first Quidditch match; facing the giant basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets; hugging his godfather for the first time; the warm feel of Tracy's lips as they shared their first kiss.

"No," Harry said, though the words were only in his thoughts. "That's private. No. Get out. Get out!"

He felt a tingling pain in his arm. He was back in Snape's office, and he'd fallen to the floor, cracking his funny bone on the way down. He stood up and looked at Snape, who had lowered his wand and was rubbing his wrist. There was an angry weal there, like a scorch mark. 

"Did you mean to produce a Stinging Hex?" asked Snape coolly. 

"I didn't even know I'd cast a spell."

"I thought not," said Snape, watching him closely. "You let me get in too far. You lost control." 

"Did you see everything I saw?" Harry asked, unsure whether he wanted to hear the answer. 

"Flashes of it," said Snape. "For a first attempt that was not as poor as it might have been. You managed to stop me eventually, though you wasted time and energy shouting. You must remain focused. Repel me with your brain and you will not need to resort to your wand." 

With his mind. Mental discipline. "Yes, sir."

"Let's go again, on the count of three. One – two – three – _Legilimens!_ " 

A great red dragon was rearing in front of him; his father and mother were waving at him out of an enchanted mirror; his godfather was welcoming him home; he was breaking up with Padma, shouting at her and her sister.

"No!" 

Harry was on his knees again, his face buried in his hands, his brain aching as though someone had been trying to pull it from his skull. 

"Get up!" said Professor Snape sharply. "Always with the ladies, Mister Potter? In only two excursions into your mind, I now know one of your weak points. Future attempts will be only easier now, should I focus my probe on those thoughts. You must make at least _some_ effort."

"I am making an effort," he said.

"I told you to empty yourself of emotion!" 

"Yeah? Well, I'm confused as all hell about girls! I can't help but feel emotion about them."

"Then you will find yourself easy prey for the Dark Lord!" said Snape unsympathetically. "He will use violence or the threat of it against those whom you form emotional attachments to. Do not give him this knowledge. Knowledge is power. Don't be weak."

"I am not weak."

"Then prove it! Master yourself!" Snape commanded. "Control your emotions, discipline your mind!"

"Wait!"

"What is it, Mister Potter?"

"Give me a moment. I need to think. Clear my mind of emotion. Okay. Okay."

Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He closed his eyes briefly. Just as in his Animagus meditations, he quieted his thoughts. He opened his eyes again and looked right at Snape.

"I'm ready, Professor."

" _Legilimens!_ "

Harry felt the pressure of the magic against his mind. He tried to guide it to thoughts he attached no emotion to. He thought about his History of Magic essay that was due next week; no, he was anxious about that.

There was a flash, and suddenly he was riding the Hogwarts Express for the first time. He couldn't contain his excitement. He tried to guide the memory to something he didn't have emotion for. He thought about the wheels on the train and how utterly boring and mundane they were. They went round and round, and that long bar went in loops, but that was about it.

Unbidden, he was kissing Laine under the mistletoe.

"Gah!" Harry cried, waving his wand and again not knowing what he cast.

"Very well, Mister Potter, I can see that there is no helping it. You need to figure out the ladies and soon, or your mind will be completely open for the Dark Lord's perusal. I believe that is enough for tonight. I want you back here same time on Wednesday. We will continue our work then."

"Yes, sir. Good night, sir." Harry felt so drained from this, he just wanted to go right to sleep.

"You are to rid your mind of all emotion every night before sleep; empty it, make it blank and calm, you understand?" 

"Yes," said Harry.

"You did better towards the end tonight. You seem to understand about the emotion. So long as the memories do not provoke strong reaction, the Legilimancer will not be able to see them and your mind will be, in so many words, a blank slate."

"Yes, sir."

"Good night, Mister Potter."

Harry left Snape's office feeling entirely drained. Going through one assault on his mind after another was exhausting. His defences had been feeble at best. Snape had dredged up a lot of things, particularly about the Dursleys, that he would rather nobody know about. Sirius knew a lot, but not everything. Some things Harry would rather just forget entirely, like the incident with Vernon's car.

Many people were still awake in the common room, but he waved off all invitations and went directly to his dormitory. All he wanted to do was sleep, but he would have to do Snape's mind clearing thing. After pulling his curtains shut, he stuck his glasses and wand to the headboard and sat in the middle of his bed.

Empty his mind. Calm and blank. A freshly washed slate of perfect smoothness. Rid himself of all emotion. Harry thought it sounded a bit like the meditations he'd done during his Animagus training. He'd had to still his mind and look into his soul. While he had found the animal within, surely he could still let thought go.

He breathed in a deep lungful of air. He slowly let it out and let all his troublesome thoughts go with it. He put aside the reason he was even going through this exercise, Voldemort, and focused on only the doing. Inhale. Slowly exhale, and all bothers expelled as well.


	14. Auror Baldi

On a Tuesday morning in the middle of November, Professor Umbridge fulfilled one of her promises to the Defence class. As the Slytherins entered the room, they saw a strange man standing with her. He had a full head of flaxen hair and wore it in numerous small braids. He looked rather like a Viking. Harry imagined him with a horned helmet, holding a battle-axe, and had to supress a snicker as they took their seats. The bell chimed the beginning of the lesson, and Professor Umbridge called them to order.

"Hem, hem. If you could all please welcome Auror Ian Baldi, who has been given the time by the Ministry to have a talk with you all."

They clapped politely. Umbridge stepped to the back and sat down at a desk. Auror Baldi waved to the students. He wore the standard grey uniform robe and looked very imposing. Harry was not set at ease by his smile; it seemed a bit ferocious, which didn't help dispel the mental picture of a Viking.

"Good morning. It is a pleasure to speak to you today. Being an Auror requires many hours on the job, so this is a real nice treat, let me tell you. Anyone here thinking of going into the Aurors?"

Harry raised his hand. None of the other Slytherins did.

"Well, it's a very challenging journey. You've got to get top marks on the OWLs, and there's a whole raft of NEWTs required as well. I know Slytherins are capable of doing it. My first mentor was a Slytherin. He taught me a great many things that saved my life multiple times. I'm going to share some of them with you today."

Harry readied his quill. Everything Auror Baldi was going to say would surely be of vital importance.

"One of the first things he told me is that a duel is eighty percent mental, ten percent magical, and ten percent physical. It is pointless to be stronger than your opponent only to be caught off-guard by a sly trick. If your opponent thinks faster or better than you, you'll be dead. Don't do what he expects you to do. Be creative and inventive with your spells. Magic is art, and we are the artists."

Harry already knew the advantages of being sneaky. Slytherins were the best at it. It was one of the many reasons they were the greatest house at Hogwarts. It was nice to hear Baldi confirm that it was better to be clever.

"You must be as tricky as possible. Nonverbal magic is harder to cast than verbal magic, but can become routine with practice. Once you master casting without words, there are great possibilities for deceiving an opponent. Disguise your spells if you can do it. Saying one spell but casting another is very difficult, but can be done by a properly developed mind."

Harry was taking no notes. He had totally forgotten about the quill in his hand. Baldi was mezmerizing in his presentation. Harry had never conceived of trying such a fake. He wondered if he could manage the trick.

"The best defence for any spell is to not get hit by it. Having awareness enough to place objects in the path of curses will save you much effort. If all else fails, duck out of the way. Seek cover. Anyone who stands there and waits to get hit is a moron."

Harry knew that to be true. He was very good at dodging spells. He'd had so much practice while training for the Triwizard Tournament that he barely flinched when bolts of light passed inches from his face.

"Another good way to not get hit is to Apparate. Apparating short distances is relatively easy, especially when you can see them. Your opponent won't know which angle you're coming at next."

Harry could Apparate, but only barely. It was still exhausting, and he couldn't do more than two in quick succession. The idea of doing it while duelling seemed impossible.

Auror Baldi continued to lecture, and Harry did eventually take some notes. The whole lesson was taken up by the talk. They cast no spells, everyone's favourite part of Defence class, yet they were all raving after they were dismissed to go to lunch.

"That was one informative lecture," Draco remarked.

"He had a lot of smart things to say," Harry replied.

"That bit about the dodging was spot-on. We learned that from Moody."

"Moody knew his business."

"That he did."

"I liked the idea of casting one spell while saying the words to another. I didn't even know you could do that."

"It's supposed to be really hard. Dumbledore probably could do it. I wonder if V-voldemort can? Of course, the only spells he needs are the Unforgiveables."

Lunch was marred by tragic news. Professor Flitwick stopped a Ravenclaw boy as they were entering the Great Hall. After a few words, the boy wailed loudly and began sobbing. Harry knew he had just been told that his family had been attacked. One or more was dead. It was all anyone could talk about during the meal.

Harry's heart ached for the boy. More names added to the list of those who would be avenged. Anger stole his appetite. He poked at his tuna fish sandwich and broke his crisps into smaller and smaller pieces.

From the Ravenclaw table, a boy's voice rise above the din. "Is it even possible to fight against the Dark Lord?"

"It is," Harry said in a voice intended to carry. "Voldemort can be fought. He's not invincible."

"No one's been able to stop him before."

"I seem to recall there was someone who did," Harry said off-handedly. He was secretly thrilled that this mouthy Ravenclaw had forgotten who Harry was.

"Oh. Right." The boy had the grace to turn red. "So what are you going to do about him now?"

"Well I can hardly get to him, can I? Nobody remembers where his fortress is. If he comes out, we'll get him, and if he stays there, so much the better. If he just sends out the Death Eaters? We can definitely fight them."

"Don't forget about Dumbledore," Laine piped up from a few seats away. "You-Know-Who's afraid of him, so there's one more person who can beat him."

"That's true," the boy admitted, "but it was probably just Death Eaters that got Jamie's family. His dad's a Muggleborn, and his mum's a Muggle. No wonder they were targeted."

"Go to the duelling club meetings," she replied. "What we're learning there is useful stuff that will help keep us alive."

Harry turned back to his sandwich but still wasn't hungry. How many others were there who thought exactly the same thing? Voldemort was awful. He'd been winning last time, and everyone knew it. Only a miracle had interrupted his rise. What would prevent him from triumphing this time?

_Me. I'm the one with the power to defeat him. Nobody else can do it. Talk about a big responsibility._

Harry generally tried not to think about it too much. If he let it occupy his thoughts, he'd constantly be depressed and anxious. He was somewhat safe behind the walls of Hogwarts, and the confrontation would happen as it would. He was determined not to let his destiny ruin his life. That was why he played Quidditch, listened to music, and kissed girls.

Harry leaned around Goyle. It was like hiding behind a tree.

"Hey, Laine. May I walk you to class? I've got a few Seeker things to talk to you about."

"Of course, Harry."

Harry returned to his glass of pumpkin juice.

"I thought we were going to talk reserve team stuff," Draco inquired.

"We are."

"When? You'll be chatting up Slater the whole time."

"Why not chat up one of the other fourth years? We'll talk on the way to History. We can be late. Binns'll never know."

"Just which lass ought I ask?"

"Well, Ginny's always around."

Draco raised one eyebrow. "Ginny has a profound dislike of me. I thought you understood that. If I asked to walk her to class, she'd probably hex me."

"I was joking. Obviously it wasn't funny."

"Or perhaps I should chat up Holt. She's ever so popular."

"She'd probably welcome the attention." Harry's second date to the Yule Ball had been shunned for the rest of last year because Laine had been crushing hard on Harry. Having her supposed best friend go after the object of her affections had driven Laine to some very vindictive invective. Things seemed to be a bit better this year, but Michelle still didn't hang around with the other girls.

"Shawna or Sarrah?" Harry suggested.

"Shawna's teeth are uneven, and Sarrah's too quiet."

"Well you're right out of luck, then, aren't you?"

"I guess so. Weasley it is."

"Do you have a desire to get hexed?"

"I enjoy a challenge."

Draco stood up and moved a few seats down to where the fourth years sat.

"Ginny, may I carry your books for you?"

"You'd lower yourself so much as to touch my secondhand books, Malfoy?" Ginny said scornfully. "What prank are you playing?"

"No prank. Harry's going to be walking with Laine, and I didn't want you to be deprived of witty conversation."

"You walking with me would help that how?"

"I happen to be extraordinarily clever. I'm also quite funny. I will share my humour with you, and you shall laugh."

Ginny was nearly laughing now. "Oh please, Malfoy. Go sit down. Forget it."

Draco bowed his head slightly and walked away.

"That could have gone worse."

"It could have gone better, too. Oh well, this was only a first attempt. I didn't really expect her to say yes. Give it time."

When lunch was over, Harry collected Laine, and they waited for the big rush of people to leave the Great Hall. When things were a little more calm, they set out up the stairwell.

"So what was this Seeker stuff?"

"Oh, nothing at all. I just wanted to walk you to class."

Laine giggled. "Sneaky. Well, let's walk then."

Harry slowed his stride down to match her pace.

"OWL year still being grossly difficult?"

"Of course. Why should things change?"

"I am not looking forward to next year."

"Nor should you be."

"How much sleep do you get?"

"Seven hours a night. Mostly. Sometimes we have a whole bunch of homework and or studying all lumped together. Then it's miserable."

"Hey, did you hear that?"

Harry stopped and cocked his head. "Sounds like arguing. Excuse me. Must go be a prefect."

"Oh, this should be fun. I'll come watch."

An audience. Wonderful. "Please just hang back and don't get involved."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

Harry followed the sound of the voices down a side corridor on the second floor. He peered around a corner and saw two Gryffindors and three Ravenclaws in a heated discussion. They seemed to be second years, maybe third. One of the Ravenclaws had his finger pointed right in one of the Gryffindor's face.

"Take back what you said about my sister, Bowyer."

"I know where you can stick that finger, Ackerly."

The other Gryffindor was poking another Ravenclaw in the chest.

"Say that again, McCall. I want to make sure to get it right when I tell my brother."

"Deaf as well, Creevey? Mother must've dropped you a few too many times."

Creevey turned beet red and went for his wand.

"Shut up!" he screamed.

The situation was now out of control and about to get dangerous. Harry stepped around the corner with a stern expression.

"What's all this then? Duelling? Outside of the Ministry Youth club? Put that wand away, Creevey. Ten points from Gryffindor."

Muttering darkly, shooting murderous glances at McCall, the Gryffindor did as he was told.

"Now then, the rest of you." Harry considered them a moment. The five boys looked ashamed at being caught, but one of the Ravenclaws looked relieved as well. He was probably glad that Harry had arrived to defuse the situation. Still, couldn't play favourites.

"Names."

"Stewart Ackerly."

"Evan McCall."

"Benjamin Macer."

"Dennis Creevey."

"Leo Bowyer."

"Ackerly, McCall, and Macer. Five points each from Ravenclaw for a total of fifteen. Bowyer, five points from Gryffindor. Added to Creevey's ten, that makes fifteen as well. I like the symmetry. Now you lot clear off to class."

Chastened, the two groups went their separate ways.

Laine smiled at Harry as she rejoined him. "Well done, prefect. You really took charge of that situation."

"It was definitely about to get out of hand."

"I wonder what they were arguing over?"

"Could be anything."

There was a lull in the conversation, and only the sound of their footsteps could be heard. Then they had arrived at the Charms classroom.

"Here we are," he said for lack of anything else.

"So it is. Thanks for walking me, Harry."

"My pleasure. Don't forget we've got a practice tonight."

"I'll see you then, handsome."

Harry blushed. "Until then."

Laine gave him a quick peck on the lips and slipped through the door. Harry stayed there for one moment longer. He could still smell her light perfume lingering in the air, the scent of jasmine and sandalwood. It suited Laine very well.

He shook off his bemusement and headed for History of Magic, which was a double. He slipped in without Binns noticing (the castle could probably collapse without Binns noticing) and took the nearest seat, which was next to Goyle. Harry found it difficult to concentrate over Goyle's snoring, and it was a relief to head to double Charms.

Professor Flitwick had finished his review of Banishing Charms and moved on to a new subject, the Gemini Charm. It created a phantom duplicate of the spell caster and could be cast multiple times. Harry immediately took note of how advantageous this spell might be in a duel. If the Death Eaters couldn't tell which one was real, he had a much higher chance of surviving.

At dinner, Harry found himself sitting next to Goyle again. It had been some time since Harry had had a real conversation with the big boy that didn't centre on studies.

"How's your family?"

"Still safe. I don't hear from them too often. No sense in taking chances, Dad says. I hear all these stories about people disappearing and hope it's not my family next."

"We're all hoping the same thing, Goyle."

"Most families haven't turned on him the way we have."

"You're still not alone in that. I can't believe that Voldemort wants to kill your dad more than he wants Mister Malfoy."

"That's true," Goyle agreed with a grunt. "Crabbe's worried about his dad too. He hasn't had any letters since he was arrested. Word got out about what happened, you see."

"I know." How it had happened, they didn't know. One day, the Hogwarts grapevine was buzzing that Crabbe's father was incarcerated. There were all sorts of wild stories about what he was going through, each more crude than the last.

"He's really hurt by it all, even if he doesn't show it. I think it's because his dad really is a Death Eater that it's bothering him."

"He had his chance."

"I know. I'm just glad my dad chose right. I could very easily be in Crabbe's shoes right now. I'm trying to help him as best I can, but I don't know what to say."

Neither did Harry.

After dinner, Harry and Pansy headed off towards the prefects meeting room. None of the other Slytherins had finished eating yet, so the pair of fifth years was on their own.

"How are things with you and Laine?"

"Quite tally. I'm going to walk out with her after practice tonight."

"That's good. Have fun."

"That's the idea. How are things with you and Terry?"

"Getting a little boring, I'm afraid. We've been seeing each other for nearly a year now, and he hasn't gotten any better at kissing. I tried to ignore it, to pretend he'd get better with practice. Unfortunately, he's still a bit on the gross side. He slobbers."

"That's more than I think I needed to know. So are you going to break up with him?"

"I think so, now that you're safely on the path with Laine."

"I could always change my mind," he bantered.

"Then again, Terry's not so bad."

"Pansy, you wound me. Am I not suitable?"

"A bit too suitable, if you ask my parents. Mother would like nothing better than for me to bring you home."

"And you?"

"I like you, Harry, but I don't think I want to snog with you. Sorry, but I've never had that urge."

"I'll try not to be offended." With as many girls as _had_ snogged him, it was somewhat nice to have a girl he could regard like a sister. "So do you have anyone in mind for your next conquest?"

"Unfortunately, there's nobody very interesting available. I might have to take up with one of the Chasers."

"I'll ask them at practice."

"Harry Potter, don't you dare!"

Harry grinned cheekily at Pansy. "How about Warrington the Third?"

"He's got a fine pedigree."

"He's not seeing anyone lately."

"I'll think about it, but don't you try to help. I can handle my own affairs, thank you."

"Affairs? What an apt choice of word."

"Be quiet, Harry."

Diggory's prefect meetings were always dull and boring. It was very procedural, motion-driven, and slow. The only reason Harry went anymore was because it was part of his responsibility.

With the recent snowfall, there were a few minutes devoted to handling firsties who went out in the snow and couldn't find their way back. Tethering Charms sounded like a wonderful idea. Aside from that highlight, though, it was an hour of blather. Diggory lectured them about magic in the corridors (again). Alicia Spinnet talked about the list of banned objects, complete with visual aids. They were in the middle of discussing the security arrangements for the train ride at Christmas when Bletchley raised his hand. 

"Seek the floor."

"The chair recognizes the gentleman from Slytherin," Diggory said.

"Motion to adjourn."

"Second!" said Harry and all the other Slytherins.

"We're still discussing patrols on the train."

"I have a practice to go to."

"You scheduled a practice during one of my meetings?"

"No, I scheduled it _after_ the meeting. I can't help it if your meetings go too long."

"We've only been here an hour!"

"Precisely my point."

"There's been a motion made and seconded," Heather Chandler pointed out. "By the rules of this council, it must be voted on."

"It must be discussed first, and I'm not done," Diggory said.

"Motions to adjourn are not open to discussion," Bletchley said smugly.

"All in favour?" Spinnet asked the council.

Only Slytherins raised their hands.

"Against?"

"By a vote of eighteen to six, the motion fails. Now, as I was saying."

Bletchley snorted and made to leave. The Slytherins looked around at each other. As one, they stood and began to walk towards the door.

"What is this, then?"

"Let us know what you all talk about," Heather Chandler said breezily. "Good luck voting, as without at least two representatives from Slytherin, you don't have a quorum."

"Bletchley, get back here." Diggory looked decidedly unamused.

"Sorry, Diggory, but we've got to practice. Big match coming up in March."

"If anyone's got a case for ditching, it's Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw," the Head Boy snapped. "We've got to play in a few days, but you already lost your match, Bletchley. Sit back down, or I'll put you there myself."

"Is that a challenge?"

"It's a promise. Sit down."

"Do you really want to have a duel in the middle of the meeting? Whatever would people say? There's plenty of time to worry about the train. It's not for more than a month anyway. We've got a dozen meetings between now and then."

"Don't push me, Bletchley."

"No, don't push me, Diggory. Your meetings take up entirely too much time. I'm getting a little short on sleep, so maybe I'm a little cranky, but I've had enough for tonight."

With that final warning, Bletchley left the room. The Slytherins followed, and Diggory stood there fuming.

"I find their behaviour to be very rude," they heard him say as they went down the corridor.

"C'mon, Harry. Let's go."

They hurried through the castle and down to the Quidditch pitch. The rest of the team was waiting for them. The Chasers hadn't waited for Bletchley and had started the reserves at drills. The two captains changed quickly and got in the air.

"Okay, here's how tonight's practice is going to go. Harry is going to be captain of the reserve Chasers. He'll fly you against first team Chasers, and Slater will be their Keeper. I'll be playing Keeper on Harry's side, so first team Chasers will have an actual challenge. Slater, you'll be on their team. Goyle, you as well. Everyone clear?"

"That was pretty confusing," Harry told him.

"Me, Harry, Malfoy, Bulstrode, Bulstrode, and Crabbe are on one team. Dezzy, Adrian, Charles, Slater, Slater, and Goyle are on the other. Is that any clearer?

"Much."

Practice very much resembled an actual match. Harry's team was crushed, even with Bletchley playing as their Keeper. The Chasers were just too good at what they did for Draco, Millie, and Arcen to have a chance. Harry had ignored the snitch completely, focusing on leading his team to victory. Laine had used the opportunity to sharpen her own skills.

In the locker room afterward, the seventh years took all of five minutes to bathe and dress before they hurried back up to the castle to squeeze in some more studying time. The N.E.W.T.s were only seven months away, and they were behind schedule.

Despite needing to look over his Charms essay one more time before it was due tomorrow, Harry luxuriated in the hot spray of the shower. His muscles were sore and aching. Being a captain was very stressful.

"I think I need a butterbeer after this. Anyone have some hidden under their bed?"

"I think I've still got a bottle or two, Harry," Goyle said, "but it'll cost you a few Galleons."

"A few!" Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. "They cost half a Sickle at the Three Broomsticks!"

"Supply and demand. I've got them. You want them."

"I could hex you."

"You won't. Then you'll never know where I tucked them away."

Lucas snorted. "Enough with your extortion, Beater Goyle. Lieutenant Captain Potter, I've got a half-dozen that you can have."

"What?"

"If you really need a butterbeer, they're all yours, Lieutenant Captain Potter."

"Why are you calling me by that ridiculous title?"

"That's who you are. You're Captain Bletchley's hand-picked successor."

"You are out of your bloody mind. Did someone put you up to this?"

"No, Lieutenant Captain, but Reserve Chaser Malfoy said I needed to show some respect."

Draco couldn't hold it together any longer and began to laugh. Harry joined in, shaking his head ruefully.

Outside the changing rooms, the November air was brisk, but not astoundingly cold, despite the snow. Harry was still glad for the Self-Warming Charm, one of the house secrets.

Laine and Millie were waiting for them. Millie, Crabbe, and Goyle immediately began to discuss their homework for Care of Magical Creatures. Draco engaged Lucas and Arcen with Quidditch talk, leaving Harry standing there with Laine.

"Hi," he said with a smile.

It was returned. "Hi, yourself. Feel human again?"

"It took some doing, but yes. How about you? Did Seeking wear you out?"

Laine laughed weakly. "I could sleep for days. Between dodging all the Chasers and avoiding Bludgers, I'm amazed I caught the snitch at all."

"Good job. Lots of people can't handle all that distraction."

"Thanks."

"Shall we?" he indicated towards the castle with a wave.

"Let's. You've got some studying to be doing, I suppose."

"Good guess."

"It wasn't a guess."

"No, I suppose not. Is it holiday break yet?"

"Another month, I'm afraid. Twenty, December."

"I don't think I can last. Is there another Hogsmeade weekend at least?"

"I wouldn't know," Laine teased. "I'm not a big prefect."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Just because I'm a prefect doesn't mean they tell me everything."

"They told you about the last one."

"Only when we needed to know."

Laine reached out and took Harry's hand. She squeezed it gently.

"You did good that day. Real good. I wish I hadn't run away."

"No, you did the right thing. Death Eaters are very nasty."

"I could have helped you."

"You did help me. You brought Flitwick. That was the best thing you could have done. He snared those Death Eaters like he was collecting leaves."

"I suppose. I probably would have just gotten in your way. Then you'd have had to rescue me or some rot."

"I'd rescue you," Harry said quietly. "I wouldn't let the Death Eaters have you."

She squeezed his hand, harder this time.

"This is nice, this time together like this. Usually there's always Draco, or Ginny, or my brother, but now I've got you all to myself."

Harry and Laine walked side by side and hand in hand until they reached the dungeons, where Harry kept walking past the entrance to the common room.

"Harry?"

"Yes?"

"The common room was back there."

"I know."

"Okay. So where are we going?"

"I wanted to show you something. We found this room during our second year. It helped us solve a mystery."

"A mystery?"

"I'd like to share it with you."

"How sweet."

Harry led her to the room filled with tapestries that had given them the final clue to unravel the mystery of the basilisk. He had also used the room to practice his Animagus transformation during fourth year. Now, he intended it for a much different purpose.

"Wow, this place is amazing."

"Isn't it?"

Laine was just as enchanted as they had been the first time in here. She couldn't tear her eyes away.

"Look at this one here."

"It's our Founder," Harry said. "That's Salazar Slytherin."

Laine shivered. "He's got such an intense look about him. That must be his pet snake, right? What was its name?"

"Silence. No, that's not his snake. That's his basilisk."

"The beast of the Chamber of Secrets? How can you tell?"

"See the eyes? Yellow."

"I see. Was that the mystery you solved?"

"It was."

"You saved Ginny."

"I guess I did."

"That's so heroic."

With that admiration, Laine threw her arms around his neck.

"I like heroes," she whispered in his ear. Then she licked his earlobe, sending tingles through his whole body.

There were no more words necessary as they sat on a box and began to kiss. Laine was definitely a more forceful girl than any other Harry had locked lips with. He found that he kind of liked a girl who wasn't afraid to go after what she wanted.

At that moment, the bell sounded curfew. Harry pulled back, regretting that the fun had to end.

"What's wrong?" she asked breathily. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were slightly unfocused. The look she was giving him made his knees feel wobbly.

"The bell. We've got to get back to the common room."

"Why?"

"Do you want to get caught?"

"Depends what we're doing."

Harry felt his cheeks start to burn as Laine laughed gently.

"No, I don't want to get caught, but who's going to catch us? Slytherins patrol down here."

"Filch?"

"Maybe, but unlikely."

"More of a risk than I care to chance."

"Not enjoying yourself, Harry?"

"Oh, I am. Believe me, I am, but we've got to be smart."

"You mean don't let people know? We're going to be coming in together after the bell. Good luck hiding that."

"No, but let's not go asking for trouble by coming in even later."

"Fair enough."

* * *

Friday was normally a quiet day. Those taking Care of Magical Creatures had a double lesson; those not had a study period. The worst part of the day was double Ancient Runes right after lunch. They were still learning the basics of Celtic runes, and it was nearly as tedious as History of Magic. At least they didn't have both back to back. That might just have killed him.

Friday was normally a quiet day, but halfway through November was no normal Friday. Harry was flipping through his Herbology text on the way out to the greenhouses when Millie, Crabbe, and Goyle came running up the path from Care of Magical Creatures.

"Harry! Theo bolted out of class! Hagrid wouldn't let us go after him."

"What happened?"

"He was starting on this new lesson. Thestrals, right? Well, Theo just starts staring bug-eyed at them. He starts shaking, and then we find out that only people who have seen death can see Thestrals. That's when he bolted. What's going on?"

Harry felt a lurch. Theo's reaction could only be due to his dad. This secret wasn't Harry's to tell. He thought fast. Theo was now an orphan.

"His mum," Harry said, somehow managing to sound normal. "She died a few years ago, remember? It probably brought up a strong memory, and he couldn't control himself."

"Oh, of course! How stupid of me."

"Someone should check on him. I'll go. Herbology can get along without me for a day." 

"Sprout will be hacked at you."

"Tell her I'm comforting a friend."

"That'll work," Daphne said. "She'll go all Hufflepuff. She might even bake a casserole."

Harry ducked behind a nearby rock and pulled out the Marauder's Map. He unfolded it and tapped his wand in the centre.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Theo was in the dormitory.

"Mischief managed."

Harry tucked the Map away and went back into the castle. He moved swiftly down the stone stairs and into the dungeons.

"Unity."

The wall slid open, and Harry went to his dormitory to find the curtains on Theo's bed drawn and the sound of sobs coming from inside.

Harry pulled back the curtain. Theo flinched back from the light, covering his eyes and furiously trying to wipe away the tears.

Harry put his hand on Theo's shoulder and squeezed slightly. These sobs were the most sound Theo had made in months. Maybe he was finally starting to come out of it.

When Theo had calmed down and several minutes had passed, Harry felt brave enough to make a suggestion.

"How about we head up to the Great Hall and get some lunch? All that sobbing must be pretty tiring. Gotta keep up your strength, mate."

Theo didn't respond.

"Or we could head down to the kitchen. I know where the secret entrance is. Elves love to serve, so we'd be feasted like kings."

Still no response. Theo lay there, staring into nothing. Harry waved his hand in front of Theo's face, but Theo didn't even blink.

Harry was now very worried. Theo was in a real bad way.

"Theo, I'm going to go get Professor Snape. Don't you go anywhere while I'm gone."

Harry carefully drew the curtains again and as an afterthought, cast a Locking Hex to prevent Theo from escaping. He put a Full-Body Bind as the Hex. If Theo triggered the spell, he wouldn't be hurt and wouldn't be going anywhere either.

Professor Snape might be skipping lunch to attend to a potion, so Harry went first to his office. He knocked, signalling that he was a Slytherin alone.

"Enter!"

"Professor, I think you should come have a look at Theo," Harry said, getting right to the point. "The Care of Magical Creatures lesson really sent him around the bend."

"What was the subject?"

"Thestrals, sir."

Snape's eyes widened briefly before narrowing in anger. "Idiocy! The great oaf is barely back and already causing tragedy."

"He ran from class. I found him on his bed, and he had a good cry, but now he's just laying there."

"I will see to him. Get up to lunch."

Harry did as he was bidden. In the Great Hall, everyone was anxious for news.

"Theo's not okay. Professor Snape is with him. I don't know if he's going to the hospital wing or not."

Theo did not show up for Ancient Runes or Astronomy. He was not in the dormitory when they returned after classes, nor did he come to dinner. Harry and Draco went to the High Table before pudding to ask Professor Snape what the story was.

"Mister Nott has been shown to a bed in the hospital wing. He will not be receiving visitors for the nonce. Perhaps when classes resume on Monday, he will feel fit to join you, but he will require his rest."

"Yes, sir," they said.

"He's finally cracked, I expect," Draco said as they returned to the table.

"Probably. He wasn't responsive at all when I found him."

"Poor Theo," Tracy said with a sigh. "I wish there was something else we could do."

"Fancy a bit of time travel?" Draco asked. "Short of that, nothing can be done. He's just going to have to work through this."

"I don't really understand what happened today," Pansy said. "He did the hard part without a qualm, but now a skinny spook horse makes him bawl like Draco when he gets a skinned knee? I expect better of him."

"What are you talking about, Pansy?" Tracy asked. "What hard thing did Theo do?"

Harry shot Pansy a glare. She paled slightly, realizing her slip of tongue. Only a few people knew the truth about what Theo had done. Aside from Draco, it was only the prefects.

"Deciding to break ties with his father. Not an easy thing, you know."

"This is a bit strong, wouldn't you say? Something hasn't been right with him all year, and I think you know what it is. Tell me, please. I want to help him."

"Don't you know if there was anything to be done for him that we'd already have done it?" Pansy asked. "He's our friend."

"So you do know."

"Yes, we know. Because we needed to know."

"Well, I need to know too."

"I don't think you do. It's none of your business."

"How can you say that?" Tracy demanded, her tone very hurt. "I know last year was a wash, but are you telling me that seven years of friendship means nothing? I'm much more of Theo's friend than you anyway. Don't be snide."

"It's not for us to say," Pansy replied. "If he wants you to know, he'll tell you, but it's no one's business."

"How's he supposed to tell me when he won't speak to anyone?"

"He'll speak when he's ready to. What part of this don't you understand, Tracy? He's got to resolve it for himself before he can talk to us."

"If I knew what he'd done, I'd be better able to help him get through this."

"You'd like to think that, wouldn't you?"

Despite Tracy's repeated pleadings, Pansy wouldn't budge. Her refusals grew increasingly waspish, and she finally snapped.

"That's enough, Davis! If you ask me again, I'm going to give you detention."

"You wouldn't."

"Try me."

Tracy had no desire to try Pansy's will, because she slumped back in her seat. "I just want to help him," she whispered.

"You can do that best by letting him talk when he's ready. He doesn't need you to smother him."

Tracy made no retort. She twirled one curl of hair around her finger and sighed. "Poor Theo."

After dessert had been eaten, the dishes cleared themselves away, leaving the tables spotless. Most of the students departed for their common rooms, but members of the Ministry Youth stayed seated.

The ranks of the Ministry Youth Club were quite swelled with the recent infusion of students who suddenly had spare time on their hands. Not even Ravenclaws could study all the time. The initial members, who had been hit with many hexes while learning to dodge and shield, were enjoying being on the other side of the wand from these rookies. They worked on improving accuracy and precision while the new members tripped over their own feet. Harry was looking forward to hexing the snot out of Ron Weasley.

That Friday night, however, they had a surprise visitor.

"Hem, hem. Everyone please sit down. This is Auror Baldi, whom you will remember from his talks in class this week. He is here today to help prepare you all for the realities of the world beyond Hogwarts. You will give him your full and undivided attention. You will listen to his instructions. Auror Baldi?"

"Thank you, Professor Umbridge. Good evening," Auror Baldi said briskly. "Professor Umbridge has invited me here to give you a lesson in duelling. Put your wands away for now. As you remember from class, ten percent of a duel is physical endurance. If you can't move quickly, how will you dodge a spell? If you're wider than you are tall, how will you duck out of the way? Athletic ability, scorned by some, is a vital skill to Aurors. Basic exercise, such as sit-ups and push-ups, walking, running, climbing, and so on, is all easy to do and invaluable for your own survival. All Auror recruits are put through a rigorous regimen, and if you have aspirations in that direction, now is a good time to start training. It is physically demanding, so if you are not in the best of condition, you will have a rougher time of it.

Auror Baldi was talking a lot of sense, just as he had in class. Harry knew that lifting weights had helped prepare his body for the rigours of the Animagus transformation. He had trained physically for the Triwizard Tournament where being able to dodge meant not being burned to a crisp by dragonfire.

Baldi waved his wand and the house tables transformed into a multitude of blue foam mats. These he sent floating through the air and deposited one in front of each student.

"First of all, we're going to do some stretches! We've got to get that blood flowing. Arms up! Reach for the sky."

Harry was used to warming up his muscles. He followed Auror Baldi's routine with ease. The rest of the club could not say the same. Half of them were gasping for air already. They'd never last through the first exercise. He, on the other hand, felt quite invigourated.

"Come, come. That was only a little stretching. Now let's do some jumping jacks. Fifty of them!"

Harry had done jumping jacks in physical education at his old Muggle school. He had pretty good coordination. Most of the others did not. Goyle nearly fell over when he got off sync and stepped on the edge of his exercise mat.

"Now then, how about a few sit-ups?" Baldi cast a Sticking Charm, and everyone's feet were stuck in place.

"Cross your arms over your chest, and when you sit up, touch your elbows to your knees. Ready? Sit-ups until you sob! One! Two! Three!"

Harry had done a great many sit-ups in his life. He began a quick rhythm, counting under his breath. Draco, one place over, was doing the same.

"Twenty!" Harry said a bit louder.

"Bugger," Draco replied. He was a half cycle behind Harry. "Twenty-one."

None of the girls was doing particularly well. Tracy was striving to complete her tenth sit-up, and she fell back. "No more!" she cried. "I can't!"

"Don't quit on me, Davis!" Auror Baldi commanded. "You can do five more. Dig down deep."

"No! It hurts!"

"Pain is the body's way of knowing we're still alive. Relish it! Take it within yourself and use it to make yourself stronger."

Tracy struggled, but she was only able to finish two more before she started sobbing.

She wasn't the only one to have trouble. A few of the boys had some stamina for this, but not many. Harry was well on his way to completing a hundred. He and the lads were the only ones still moving. Everyone else was clutching their abdomens.

Auror Baldi finally called a halt to the sit-ups.

"Pathetic. I'd wash the lot of you. All right! Face down on the ground. Hands shoulder-width apart. Ready? Push-ups until you puke! One! Two! Three! Four! I want! To be! An Aur-or!"

Harry, Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle were quite used to push-ups. The rest of the club was not. Millie did the best, puffing hard as she went, slower than the boys. Tracy, Daphne, and Pansy all laboured to do a mere handful.

Daphne collapsed to her mat, her arms splaying out to her sides. "I give up!"

"No weakness, Greengrass! You're going to give me ten push-ups, or you'll never leave this room."

"This is torture!"

"This is only some simple calisthenics. You'd never survive real torture."

"Nobody can withstand _real_ torture," Draco muttered.

"Absolutely pathetic! All of you! This is nothing, you sad bunch of jelly-armed jerks!"

Weasley was breathing heavily. He was completing his pushups, albeit slowly. He must have done a lot in his training to be Seeker, Harry realized.

No one threw up, which was amazing considering they'd just eaten dinner. When most everyone had collapsed on the mat with arms like noodles, Auror Baldi clapped his hands.

"All right! Everyone on your feet! Now that you've all warmed up, it's time for the practical lesson. He who casts first, lives longer. The faster you can draw your wand and cast your first spell, the greater your chances of survival are. Using the Disarming Charm only, we're going to practice drawing your wand as quickly as you can."

Everyone paired off. Harry found himself facing off with Millie. This was not going to end well.

"Go!"

The results were somewhat predictable. Mis-aimed spells went everywhere. Wands went flying. Several people threw theirs, including Neville Longbottom.

Auror Baldi shook his head ruefully. "You must do better. Again."

After the first hour, their drill instructor had to leave.

"I go on duty in fifteen minutes. That should be just enough time to walk to the front gate and Apparate to headquarters. Continue practicing everything we did here tonight. I expect to see improvement when I return."

"Everyone say, 'Thank you, Auror Baldi'," Umbridge called out.

"Thank you, Auror Baldi," the club said loudly.

"You are welcome, children. I hope I may come back and do this again."

Harry wagered that quite a few of the club would be just as happy to never see the man again.

Umbridge worked them over for another hour after Auror Baldi left. Each student was given a target and had to cast continuously until they couldn't form the spell. They were trying to improve their stamina, and like any muscle you had to stretch it fully. 

While they normally had quite a workout in the Ministry Youth club, tonight's session was particularly gruelling. Harry ached in places all-new to him. He'd gone longer than he'd reckoned he could, and that made him happy. All the extra training was needed, he knew. The world was a dangerous place, and there were weekly headlines in the paper of people going missing. Every so often one of the Heads of House would lead a sobbing student from the Great Hall.

Harry wanted very much to sink into a hot bath to sooth his sore body, and tonight he decided to make use of one of the privileges of being a prefect. The prefects' bathroom was inconveniently far away on the fifth floor. It would almost be easier to just head down to the Slytherin dungeons. Harry knew a secret passage from the first floor to the fifth, but the idea of climbing any steps made him groan. Still, he hadn't yet made the excuse to trek up there and use the blasted thing. Now was as good a time as any, and at least he could have some privacy up there.

Once he ducked behind the painting of the man juggling four geese, he shifted into his mongoose form. Quick as a flash -- well, a slow blink perhaps -- he ascended to the fifth floor. He changed back and peeked out of the passage. The coast was clear. He emerged and made his way down to the statue of Boris the Bewildered, a lost-looking wizard with his gloves on the wrong hands.

"Four doors down," he said to himself, and stopped in front of a plain wooden door.

"Dragon tamer."

The door creaked open, and Harry stepped inside. He was prepared to be suitably impressed. He was not prepared to be astounded.

The Slytherin bathroom was amazingly lavish and wonderful. Harry had never seen anything like it. Even the baths at Malfoy Manor and Grimmauld Place were a step down from the Slytherin baths. It was reputed to be only the second best bathroom in Hogwarts, and now Harry now knew that to be true.

The place was magnificent.

It was softly lit by a splendid candle-filled chandelier, and everything was made of white marble, including what looked like a rectangular swimming pool sunk into the middle of the floor. About a hundred golden taps stood all around the pools edges, each with a differently colored jewel set into its handle. These must control the varied bubbles Harry saw floating on the surface of the water. There was also a diving board. Long white linen curtains hung at the windows; a large pile of fluffy white towels sat in a corner.

There was a single golden-framed painting on the wall. It featured a blonde mermaid who was fast asleep on a rock, her long hair over her face. It fluttered every time she snored, and her ample chest rose and fell as well. Two tiny shells connected by a string of pebbles left very little to the imagination. Harry, who had seen actual merpeople, thought her a bit unrealistic. That didn't prevent his mind from wandering into naughty thoughts.

A place this swanky made being a prefect worth every boring minute of Diggory's council meetings. If he'd known about the pool, he'd have come sooner. His form was still sloppy, so some swimming practice would be most welcome.

"You look like I imagine I did when I first walked in here," said a voice.

Harry glanced towards the shallow end and saw Neville Longbottom lounging with his feet up on the edge of the pool.

"First time in here?"

"Yeah," Harry replied. "How's the water?"

"Steaming. I do this after every meeting."

"That's why I'm here too."

Harry went over and fetched a towel from the stack in the corner. He set it at the far end. Without glancing at Longbottom, Harry stripped off his robes, uniform, and unmentionables and set his wand on top where it would be easy to grab. He dove into the deep end of the pool, swimming down to touch the bottom before spinning around and rocketing himself back toward the surface.

The water was deliciously hot. Harry could already feel his aches draining away. He floated for a moment, water filling his ears so that if he closed his eyes, he was in his own little world.

_It would be very easy to slip into a meditative state in here_ , he thought absently.

Easy, but probably unwise. There was another person present, and more might arrive. His wand was not on his person, and that was a big enough risk. There was no need to be foolhardy.

Harry lifted his head up and shook the water out of his ears. He made his way to the edge and rested his head near his robes.

"Nice, wot?"

"You could definitely say that. I can see why you come here all the time. Of course, Gryffindor tower is closer than the Slytherin common room."

"I suppose it is, at that. So what brings you here tonight?"

"Mostly curiosity, I guess. It's half-way through November, and I still haven't been in here. I've barely handed out any discipline. Being a prefect isn't really all that different, other than having to sit through those meetings."

"Diggory's meetings will be the death of my patience. You'd think with the NEWTs coming up, he'd have better things to do than waste several hours of our time every week. I'm quite nervous about the OWLs myself."

"Everyone is. You're not alone in that regard."

Longbottom chuckled. "I suppose not. How about you? You're a top student, aren't you?"

"I suppose. I don't feel like it sometimes. I'm always challenged by the material. I grew up with Muggles, so I was denied all knowledge of magic, even theory. I study very hard to get the marks I do."

"You mean you're not really plotting to conquer the world every night? You're just trying to pass classes?"

"Exactly, Longbottom," Harry said with a laugh. "Yeah, I'm nervous about the OWLs. Who isn't? They're a really big deal. I hope I get an O in Potions so I can keep studying with Professor Snape."

Longbottom grimaced. "I'll be free of that honour in only a few short months. That's what I keep telling myself."

"You haven't been absolutely wretched lately," Harry offered positively. "You just get too nervous and forget what you've already done. You need to write down things as you do them."

"Now that sounds like an excellent idea. I may just try that."

For a few moments there was only the soft sound of bubbles popping.

Longbottom cleared his throat. "So you seem like you enjoy the duelling club. You always do well in the exercises."

"I did a lot of practicing over the holiday."

"I didn't have anyone to teach me. Just my gran, but she thinks I'm hopeless."

"Sirius and Remus fought in the last war. Their experience is invaluable to me."

"You're definitely a few cuts above even the seventh years. That's good. I'm glad the duelling club is giving me the chance to really learn this stuff. Maybe some day I can be where you are now."

Longbottom's eyes got distant for a moment.

"You always give it your all. You don't let failure discourage you. You've gotten better, Longbottom, make no mistake. Your aim is much improved. Now you just need to learn to hold on to your wand."

"I know. I'm not very good at this duelling thing yet."

"That's the key word. One day."

"I just hope it's soon."

"Gotta work at it."

"I am. I have to."

"Why's that?"

Longbottom took a long time to answer. When he did, it was just a single word.

"Justice."

"Justice?" Harry repeated, quite startled. "For whom?"

"My mum and dad. They were attacked by Death Eaters after You-Know-Who disappeared. Aurors caught them, but it was too late for my folks. Those Death Eaters went to the old prison, but they're free now."

"Who?" Harry's voice was hushed.

"Bellatrix Lestrange. Her husband Rudolphus. His brother Rabastan. I'm going to kill them one day."

Longbottom's tone was completely matter-of-fact. He might have been talking about doing a homework assignment. It was so completely unlike anything Harry had ever heard or seen from the Gryffindor that he didn't know what to say, but he understood.

Harry finished his bath, toweled off, and pulled on his uniform robe. He carried his shirt and trousers, which he hadn't wanted to put on again now that he was clean.

"See you around, Longbottom."

"See you around, Potter."

* * *

A crisp, clear Saturday was always ideal for playing Quidditch. Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw were fortunate enough to have such a day. There was little wind, and it felt quite warm out despite being the middle of November.

Harry was cheering for the black and yellow. Susan Bones had made the team as a Chaser, and this was her first match. He'd asked Laine to sit with him, and she'd worn Hufflepuff colours so as not to clash with him. Pansy was decked out in blue and bronze for Terry's sake. Goyle was as well, for Mandy. Nobody else cared enough to support one over the other. They just wanted to see some good Quidditch.

They were not disappointed.

A bad collision took out Biff Webster, the Ravenclaw Keeper. Cho Chang had been chasing after the snitch, and as she'd closed in, Webster had gone to block a shot on the hoop. With the score at that moment, even if Chang caught the snitch, Ravenclaw would still have lost the match. The two had collided with a magnificent sound, the snitch vanished, and Chang had shakily floated away; Webster caught the worst of it and fell from his broom to the grassy pitch.

Agnes Gaud, seventh year, had been taking most of the shots for Hufflepuff, but once Webster was out of the match, Susan was able to get a few goals. She had pretty good form. Harry flashed her a thumbs-up as she flew by. In a few more months, she'd be even better. She couldn't match against Slytherin, but next year might be a different story.

Without a Keeper, Ravenclaw's Chasers could only do so much to prevent Hufflepuff from racking up the score. The Beaters tried to help, but Summers and Summerby were bigger and brawnier, and the Bludgers were redirected. Cedric Diggory led the Hufflepuff Quidditch team in trouncing Ravenclaw 330-100.

Harry thought about going to congratulate Susan, but he knew she'd be celebrating her first win with her team. Harry could still remember most of the details of his first victory party. Hufflepuff would be up late tonight.

"I wonder how rowdy it's going to be in Hufflepuff tonight," Laine speculated.

"They'll be hugging each other for hours, with the team in the middle," Daphne replied.

Harry felt obligated to stick up for Susan. "They played well. We'll have to have a good high score like that to have a chance to take the Quidditch Cup."

"Take out Webster when you play Ravenclaw," Daphne said.

"We might look into that."

"Captain Bletchley and Lieutenant Captain Potter will figure out a way," Laine declared.

"Will you _please_ stop calling me that," Harry requested for the dozenth time.

"But it's so fun!"

"I agree!" Daphne declared.

"You would. Laine, would you like to go for a walk?"

"Of course, Harry."

The weather looked like it might snow again, so they decided not to walk the grounds. Up on the battlements, they were able to enjoy fresh air and seek shelter at a moment's notice.

They talked of Youth Club, Quidditch, and classes. Laine asked about Sirius, and Harry asked after her parents. He could barely recall her mum and dad, but he didn't tell her that. She started to ask about his plans once he finished school, but Harry changed the subject.

"Enough about me. It's always about me. Me and whatever trouble has found me at the given moment, anyway. I want to know more about you. Tell me about growing up with a twin."

"Right, because you know nothing about it," Laine replied with a giggle. "Didn't you used to date a twin?"

"Well yes, but that was a girl, and identical twin. This is totally different."

"I suppose it is. You do seem to have a thing for twins, don't you? I'd better hold on to you. Otherwise you might wind up with those Weasley twins next!"

"Ack!" Harry choked. 

"Speaking of Weasleys, look who I see," Laine said with a nod of her head.

Ron Weasley had turned the corner. He was chatting animatedly with Thomas and hadn't seen them, but it would only be a matter of time.

"Should we avoid them? He's pretty hacked at you."

"Very true." Discretion was sometimes the better part of valour, and Harry was having far too good of a time to let Weasley ruin it. "Let's take the secret passage."

Unfortunately the grinding of the stone was quite loud.

"Oi, it's the great Hogwarts Champion! Hey Champ, play any good Quidditch lately? Wait! Where are you going? Got no time for your fans?"

"Weasley, it might surprise you, but I have better things to do than talk to you. You and Thomas go finish your date. Make sure you kiss goodnight before curfew."

Weasley turned beet red in an instant. "Shut up, Potter!" he bellowed.

"Was I not supposed to know? Ah. Our little secret then. Not! I'm going to tell the whole school we found you snogging in a broom closet."

"Oh, that's scandalous," Laine said with a giggle. "Weasley, you don't seem like a poof."

"I'm not a bloody poof! Gross! I mean, really! The very idea. Take it back!"

"Or what?" Harry asked.

"Or you'll regret it."

"What are you going to do? Hex me? Do you really want to take on two original members of the duelling club?"

"Duelling club? I thought it was the 'We Worship Minister Fudge Society'."

"Whatever it's called, it's still a duelling club. That's most of what we do. So Umbridge goes on a bit about the Ministry cause. So what? Obviously she wants people to finish school and go into the Aurors. There's a war on, Weasley, or hadn't you noticed?"

"I had to spend every minute of the holiday indoors because of it, Potter. What I had to go through to train as Seeker was staggeringly difficult." Weasley paused. "Worth it though, since I beat you to the snitch."

"Only on account of villainy!" Laine shouted.

"Tell people anything you want, Potter. I beat you to the snitch fair and square. I told you my Cleansweep was better. Now I've proved it. Just goes to show that good will always triumph over evil."

Harry had had enough. Why did Weasley have to come along and ruin a perfectly nice date? The interrupting imbecile could never seem to keep his mouth shut and just go on his way. Harry's mere existence seemed to offend him. It was all so bloody stupid. Harry was destined to face down the worst Dark Lord since Grindelwald, and he still had to deal with smarmy, self-righteous Gryffindors. Something inside Harry seemed to snap.

"I've had just about enough of you calling me evil. You know what? Fine. I am evil. I'm the evil Harry Potter, and I'm here to steal all your souls. You want me to be evil so badly? Have a taste of this! _Serpensortia!_ "

Harry's rage must have channeled through his magic, because the king cobra that burst from his wand was both bigger and more poisonous than anything he'd ever summoned. It was ten feet long if it was an inch, and the hood flared shoulder-width as it hissed warningly at the Gryffindors.

"What the smeg?" Thomas whispered.

"Back away slowly," Weasley advised.

The snake advanced, slithering forward with each step they took. Eyes wide, not looking where they were going, walking backwards, the two Gryffindors reached the corner and bolted faster than a snitch.

Laine laughed mockingly at the fleeing boys. She hugged Harry tightly.

"Oh, that was brilliant! By Merlin, he's annoying, but you handled him beautifully. I've never seen anybody run that fast."

"I'm so tired of him. I've got a Dark Lord out to kill me, and he thinks I have time for his garbage?"

"Should we do something about him?"

"Like what? Anything we threaten him with is just going to convince him further that we're all Dark as the other side of the moon."

"I don't know," Laine admitted, "but we should do something."

"We should ask around and find out what his boggart was a couple of years ago. I bet it was an empty dinner plate."


	15. Come And Ride The Train

Theo eventually returned to classes and the dormitory. He wouldn't meet anyone's eyes, and he still refused to speak. He was always face down in his books, quill scratching away.

Harry felt awful for his friend and wished for the thousandth time that there was something he could actively do to help. As November passed into December and the castle began to think of Christmas, Harry found himself wondering if he should sign up to stay at the castle with Theo.

"Hey, Theo," Harry said one evening in the dormitory.

The boy didn't turn, but the quill paused.

"It's going to be the holiday coming up soon, and I figured, I mean, with things the way they are and all, you know, I thought it would be nice if you came home with me."

The quill began moving again.

"Or," Harry said desperately, "if you wanted, I could stay here with you."

The quill paused once more. Theo turned around and briefly looked up at Harry. Harry shivered from the intensity of Theo's eyes. There was no hope, no life in those eyes. The boy blinked once and turned back to his essay.

"It's okay, Harry," Crabbe said suddenly. "I know you've been looking forward to this. I'll stay with Theo. Goyle invited me, but I think I'm needed here more."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. We'll have a jolly old time."

Harry continued to worry about his friend as he worked on his homework. Alone, or near enough to it, was no way to spend Christmas. His own invitation had been rebuffed, but Harry and Theo had been rather on the outs for the past year or more. Maybe Theo would be more likely to accept if one of his older friends invited him.

Unable to focus on his schoolwork, Harry closed his books and headed out to the common room. Several of his friends were sitting in front of the fireplace chatting quietly.

"Hey, guys."

"Harry, join us?"

"What's happening?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary. Couldn't study any more right now."

"Same with us. Going to get back to it in a few minutes, though."

"I probably will too." Harry hesitated for a moment. "I'm worried about Theo. Where's he going to go for Christmas?"

"I hadn't thought about it," Draco said. "I guess he'll stay here, yes?"

"Seems a miserable way to spend Christmas," Millie said.

"I thought so. I invited him to come home with me."

"He accepted?"

"No. Didn't say anything, really."

"That's typical this year."

"Crabbe offered to stay, but I think the best place for him would be with one of us."

"I tend to agree. I'll invite him."

"Really?"

"Sure. It beats having to put up with Arcen for the holiday. My kid sisters would love him. I don't know anyone who can keep scowling around that pair. I bet Theo and I could have a lot of fun."

"That's great, Millie," Harry said with relief. "That sounds like just what he needs."

* * *

One of Professor Umbridge's new security measures had been for prefects to patrol in pairs, rather than singly. It had played havoc with their study schedules, and Harry was down to only six and a half hours of sleep every night during the week. He was looking forward to the holiday break, such as it would be with his study plan. He recognized that it was O.W.L. year, but he was starting to feel like a Ravenclaw, not a Slytherin.

The fifth year Slytherins had been assigned to snow duty. It continued to pile up on the castle and grounds. The battlements were covered with great drifts that patrolling prefects had to remove every night with fire spells.

"Maybe Goyle should have been the prefect," Harry complained to Pansy as they worked.

Pansy laughed merrily at the thought. Goyle was good at Fire Charms and little else.

"Can you see him now? Can you imagine the look on Weasley's face if Goyle were to give him detention?"

Harry snickered. It was December, and he hadn't yet issued a detention to anyone, let alone Weasley.

"Come on," he said, changing the subject. "We're going to be late for duelling club."

They'd all been working hard in the Ministry Youth Club. The good casters had hexed everyone else so they could work on their Protego Shield. Now Professor Umbridge introduced the next phase of her plan.

"Hem, hem. You have all done quite well to master the Protego Shield. Now you will begin to work on the list of hexes, jinxes, and curses that your fellow youth have been casting on you for all these weeks. It's time for you all to get your payback."

Ron Weasley looked like the cat that ate the canary. He certainly ate everything else in sight. Harry knew he would be getting a lot of angry hexes from the Gryffindor Seeker.

"Good thing my shield is pretty solid," he muttered.

"Come on, Potter! Let's see if you can take it as well as you can dish it out."

Harry cast the shield and stood there waiting for Weasley to attempt his first spell.

Weasley didn't go for a Disarming Charm. He didn't try the Full-Body Bind or the Jelly-Legs Jinx either. Fury raged in his eyes as he pointed his wand.

" _Bombarda!_ "

The force of the Blasting Curse pushed Harry back a step or two. His shield held, but Harry knew he'd only be able to block a few more times before he needed to recast.

"Not bad, Weasley," Harry taunted. "Not good, but not totally horrible either."

"Shut up, Potter. _Diffindo!_ "

The Severing Curse was also absorbed by Harry's shield. Weasley had remembered Professor Moody's lesson from last year about mixing up his spells, because he went through the whole gamut that Umbridge had provided them. Harry noted with interest that Weasley succeeded with every spell; nothing fizzled out on him.

Harry certainly got some practice with the Protego Shield. Every four or five spells, Harry would need to reinforce it just to keep Weasley from breaking through. The red-haired twat was better than Harry had ever given him credit for.

"Hem, hem. Well done, everyone. The Minister is very proud of you all. Everyone who knows how to defend him or herself is a threat to the Death Eaters. Keep up the practice, and I'll see you again next time."

Harry put his wand away and peered around for Laine. She looked like she'd been working hard. Her hair was slightly messy, but she had a satisfied grin. Harry's breath caught in his chest for a moment.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey, yourself."

"I've got about twenty minutes of free time. Would you like to go for a walk?"

"Twenty whole minutes? You must've not had homework for one class."

"I did well in Charms, and Flitwick let me off."

Laine giggled. "Well done. What Charm was it?"

"The Stunning Spell. I've had a bit of practice with it."

"Training for the Tasks?"

"Actually, a bit earlier than that. You remember Mother Black's portrait that I've mentioned?"

"The one who liked to yell?"

"Yes. Well her yelling disturbed the other portraits, and they'd all start to shout and row as well. We were trying to clean and couldn't take the racket, so I got to try using the Stunning Spell on the portraits."

Laine giggled. "That sounds so silly. I didn't realize you could stun a painting."

"True fact. It kept me busy, and by the end of summer, I was pretty handy with it. Now it's second nature."

"You're a great wizard, Harry. I've known that for ages."

Laine glanced around the corridor. There were no other students in sight. She opened a small door and pulled Harry inside.

"Come on, great wizard."

Harry grinned and closed the door behind him. He put a Locking Hex in place and put his arms around Laine's waist. She squeezed him tightly first, resting her head on his chest. She sighed contentedly. Harry liked this almost as much as snogging. He often wished he could stop time just so as to spend a few more minutes in a warm, comfortable embrace.

Alas, they had only fifteen minutes.

Harry kissed Laine's forehead, and she turned up her face to him. He lowered his lips to hers and was soon engaged in a different sort of duel. Harry's body reacted predictably, but he didn't worry about Laine noticing ever since he'd gotten that Concealment Charm from Sirius.

They made the most of the time they had, but Harry was still regretful when they emerged from the closet. How was a boy supposed to make it through fifth year when he was stretched so thin?

"I've got to head back up to the library," Harry said, fibbing a bit, "but I'll walk you down to the common room first."

"You also need to get your books."

"Well, there is that too."

"Anything to spend more time with you."

They held hands as they walked. Laine said little, but every so often she squeezed his hand. They entered the common room together and moved towards the far end of the common room. There was no gazing deeply into each other's eyes. Laine briefly kissed him hard on the mouth.

"Study hard," she said before heading into her dorm.

Harry wished he didn't have an obligation tonight. Though he was not going to the library to do classwork, he was studying something else. He grabbed his bag, hurried through the dungeon corridors. He was about to knock on Professor Snape's office door when he realized that he should take a few moments to calm his thoughts.

He breathed in deeply through his nose and exhaled slowly from his mouth. He cleared his mind, ejecting all thoughts of girls and snogging. He immediately felt better and raised his hand to knock.

"Good evening, Mister Potter. Have a seat."

"Hello, sir."

"Have you been clearing your mind every night before sleep?"

"Yes, sir."

"Have you had any more disturbing dreams?"

"No, sir."

"Any strange visions? Any thoughts not your own?"

"No, sir. Just schoolwork and Quidditch, sir."

"Good. Last time, you were able to eject me from your mind without shouting. I had only a few moments in which to examine your memories. This is good progress. The fewer things you allow an intruder to see, the less they can use against you. You will be quicker about it, and you will not let me in so immediately. Are you ready?"

"Ye-"

" _Legilimens!_ "

Harry had been waiting for Snape to strike without warning. The technical specifications of the Firebolt drifted through his mind. Though he had a certain dry, detatched admiration for them in the abstract, Harry could never suppress his joy of flying on it.

With a flash, he was remembering his first Quidditch match, where he'd nearly swallowed the snitch. Hagrid was knocking down the door of the hut on the rock and handing him a squashed birthday cake. 

Harry tamped down his happy memories and shoved Snape's presence out of his mind.

"Well done, Mister Potter. You are much faster this time."

"Thank you, sir."

"Clear your mind. Divest yourself of all emotional attachment to the experience. We go again. _Legilimens!_ "

Harry and Draco were playing a prank on Weasley, abducting his rat. Harry and Sirius running around Grimmauld Place in their Animagi forms.

Harry pushed Snape away as hard as he could. That was a secret. He hoped Snape hadn't seen the mongoose.

"Interesting memories, Mister Potter. I congratulate you on achieving mastery of Transfiguration. Thirty points to Slytherin."

"Thank you, sir."

"Let us go again. _Legilimens!_ "

Harry was running from Dudley's gang on the schoolyard and winding up on the roof. Mr. Malfoy and Sirius were teaching him how to Apparate.

Harry shoved Snape away again.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "You continue to surprise me, Mister Potter. Take another thirty points. It seems you are ready for your Apparition test a whole year in advance. Well done. Lucius did well to arm you with this weapon."

"I'm still not very good."

"As with everything, Mister Potter, you must practice."

"On the grounds of Hogwarts."

"Naturally not, but Hogsmeade, perhaps?"

"When we're not fending off Death Eater attacks?"

Snape spared himself a small smile. "Yes, in all that wonderful spare time I know you have so much of."

"Yes, sir."

"What other secrets are you keeping, Mister Potter? This will be a perfect test of your abilities. I will attempt to discover the secrets, and you will keep the knowledge away from me."

Uh oh.

" _Legilimens!_ "

Dudley had socked Harry in the face, but he hadn't locked his wrist, so he'd broken that in addition to Harry's jaw. The Dursleys had taken the pair to the hospital. Dudley got a cast. Harry's mouth got wired shut.

"Boys will be boys," Vernon had said ruefully to the check-in gentleman. "When I was their age, my friends and I got into all kinds of scrapes. Had to put your dukes up every so often to defend life or honour. There's been a bad element creeping into our little village over the past few years. I don't like it. No, I don't."

Harry pushed Snape out again.

Snape seemed very troubled by what he'd seen. His usual cool composure cracked, and he seemed almost sad. "Did they often need to take you to the Muggle hospital?"

"Thankfully, no. I was usually pretty quick. That time, he got me as I was walking away."

"I cannot stand bullies," Snape declared. "The idea that just because one is taller and stronger somehow means that he has a brain with which to think and not drool on himself is quite uncivilized. One cannot reason with bullies. They must be confronted and made low."

"Yes, sir." Harry would just as soon get an Obliviator to remove all memory of his childhood with the Dursleys.

"Are you ready?"

"Sure."

" _Legilimens!_ "

Harry was whispering Parseltongue and reopening the Chamber of Secrets. Draco was with him, and they carried brooms.

"Mister Potter! You are making use of the Chamber of Secrets?"

"Yes. It's mine, isn't it? By rights? I have the gift needed to open the entrance. Slytherin left it here for me. Yes, for Tom Riddle, too, but anyone who can speak the snake language can get inside. I've looked up a bit of my family history, and I don't think I'm related to Slytherin directly. Everything is a bit hazy that far back, but that's my best guess."

"It is indeed a most interesting way of interpreting the term 'Heir of Slytherin'. One need not be a blood relation to be an heir. It is most commonly used as such, but can be otherwise. Have you woken the basilisk?"

"No. There's no need. I told her to go to sleep for a long time. Maybe someday I can let her out again, and she can see the sky. I bet she's beautiful in the sunshine."

Snape shook his head. "As you wish, Mister Potter, but be aware that most wizard/basilisk relations do not end well. I think we've done all we can do for tonight. You still need to at least attempt to keep me from breaking in at all. Clear your mind for longer before you sleep."

"Yes, sir."

"Good night."

* * *

Professor Umbridge was moving right along with her lessons in the Ministry Youth. She called the group to order and had them form a circle.

"Hem, hem. You are all doing quite well with the hexes and curses. I'm glad to see that everyone's basic Protego is up to scratch. Tonight, we're going to start something new. It's a variant of Protego, called Protego Recurve. It allows you to do more than simply block a curse by absorbing it. With a Recurve Shield, you can redirect a spell towards other enemies. It's tricky, but the Aurors are master of it. I'm trying to get another Auror to come visit. They would be able to show you the shield properly. As it is, we are going to try our best to learn from the book. Please turn to page two hundred."

Harry studied the wand motion and noted the similarity to the normal Protego Shield. It was really only an additional sweep to catch a spell and redirect it. That was the risky part. If one didn't get it exactly right, one would catch the full force of the spell.

"Would anyone like to volunteer first?"

"I will," Cedric Diggory said.

"Thank you, Mister Diggory. Ten points to Hufflepuff. I will be casting a Stunner. Redirect onto anyone you can."

Cedric stood in the centre of the circle. Any spell deflected would hit someone not quick enough and aware of the situation to raise their own shield. He bowed to Umbridge.

She bowed back. " _Stupefy!_ "

" _Protego deflecto!_ "

The red light of the Stunner was caught in the wave of Diggory's wand and went blasting right at Harry.

" _Protego deflecto!_ "

Harry could have simply absorbed the spell, but he wanted to try the new shield. He caught the red bolt on the tip of his wand and pointed it across the circle at Weasley.

" _Protego!_ "

Weasley's shield blocked the spell.

"Well done, all of you. Ten points to Hufflepuff and Slytherin, five points to Gryffindor."

Harry grinned.

"As Mister Potter so amply demonstrated, it is possible to redirect the same spell multiple times. I have learned that the Aurors have a training game where they pass around nasty curses. We will try with the Stunning Spell. If you fail at redirection, you will be revived at the end. This is a game of elimination, and the last one standing will receive twenty points. Are you ready? _Stupefy!_ "

Harry and the Slytherins did their best to redirect the spell at Weasleys. It was hard enough to aim precisely when simply casting magic, but one eventually got the hang of it. The redirection shield was more imprecise. One had to perfectly catch the spell on the tip of the wand. It would deflect just fine if one did not, but the direction would be more random. That was what made this game so challenging and fun.

The younger students were the first to be knocked unconscious. About half of the older students were as well. Harry had the satisfaction of helping to eliminate Ronald and Fred. Naturally, though, the Slytherins were targeted by the Gryffindors as well. Only Draco and Millie were still standing with Harry.

Roger Davies was the next to go, and he crashed to the floor, which Professor Umbridge had thoughtfully covered with a Cushioning Charm. She cast another stunner, and the game continued. It was almost blinding, keeping an eye on the bolt of light. This one they juggled for five minutes before it finally fizzled out.

"Well done, my dears. Ten points to all of you. Now, we're going to take one big step forward and go again."

By closing up the circle, there was less time for them to react, and they began to drop like flies. Harry had gotten his timing fairly well in the big group, but now he was really nervous.

The bolt came rocketing towards him. Harry cast the shield and went for the wand motion, but he wasn't fast enough. The spell was already inside his defences, and it slammed into his chest like a ton of bricks. Harry stumbled backwards, falling to the floor as he fell into a pit of blackness.

* * *

The drifts would have to be cleared away with more fire before anyone would be able to find the way down to the village station. Harry thought it all quite pretty when viewed through the great picture window in the Slytherin dormitory.

Between the occasional walk and snog in the snow with Laine, school, youth club, Quidditch, prefecting, and Occlumency lessons once a week with Professor Snape, Harry was worn out and stretched thin. Every evening he dragged himself to bed a few minutes before midnight, and every morning he rose at first light to get in a bit of studying before breakfast. Despite a few hours of respite snatched on weekends, his world had been all about preparing for the O.W.L.s and surviving fifth year. Thank Merlin they did not sit regular examinations as well.

He had gotten a tad better at the mind magic. He now wasted no time in shouting, protesting that his memories were his own and private. Now when Snape broke in, Harry was able to instantly push him out. Little of his memories slipped out. Six weeks of lessons had taught him that much, at least, but he had progressed no further. Snape must have noticed his dissatisfaction.

"Mister Potter, you have now been studying this complex magical art for only a few weeks. You are doing quite well. Most students cannot even expel an intruder this soon in their training. Of those who can, most of them are still shouting. They can't help it. You have at least learned to use your mind."

"Thank you, sir. I don't much feel like I am doing so well."

"Would you care for a cup of tea, Mister Potter?"

Snape had seldom invited Harry to drink with him. His Head of House kept an open door, but he was not in the habit of initiating the meeting.

"Thank you, sir."

Snape tapped his wand to the kettle, and it instantly began to whistle. With a casual wave, he opened a jar on the shelf and filled two tea balls with the contents. The balls deposited themselves in a pair of solid silver teacups, complete with saucers, that emerged from the cupboard to set themselves in front of teacher and student.

"Why do you feel you are not doing well at Occlumency?"

"I haven't really improved, have I? I was able to push you out the very first time. I can still do that. I'm quicker, but I'm not preventing you from getting in at all."

"That will come with time," Snape assured him.

"How much time?"

"As much time as it takes. Either it will be rapid or not. It may never come at all. From the progress you have made so far, I am confident that you will be able to stand up to my assault by late spring. From there, Professor Dumbledore will test you. When he is satisfied with your mind, we will work together to break in. If you can keep us both out at once, the Dark Lord will not have a hope of penetrating your defences."

Harry couldn't help but be awed by how well Snape had planned out his growth as an Occlumens. He presented it with such absolute certainty that Harry was capable of doing this. The notion of keeping out two Legilimancers simultaneously was enormously intimidating, but Harry could appreciate such a lofty and ambitious goal.

"So when? Sometime in seventh year?"

"Perhaps next Christmas."

Harry wasn't thinking about next Christmas; he was thinking about this year's holiday. He couldn't wait to get back to Grimmauld Place, where he had two and a half weeks of vacation to spend with Sirius. This year there was no worrying about tasks for a tournament, no mystery hanging over him, no conundrum to solve, nor any threatening situation. It was all out in the open now, the war on. That small fact aside, Harry had been having a remarkably normal-seeming year at Hogwarts. He hoped that he might have a normal Christmas as well.

The fifth years were ready for a break. The O.W.L. exams were well-known for making students go a bit loony. Aside from all the essays they were regularly writing, most of the professors had announced intention to set a mock-O.W.L. exam in the last week before the holiday began. They were almost through the gauntlet, but it wasn't over yet.

The students at large were ready for a break. The school had been a very taut place ever since Professor Umbridge had arrived, even more so since she'd been appointed as Security Officer. She had investigated most of her fellow teachers quite thoroughly by this time. Nobody had quite had the nerve to ask her when she might have her findings or what those findings might mean. 

It was double Defence, their last class before lunch. They'd just finished the mock-exam, and Harry wondered if his hand was going to fall off before double Charms later in the day. Thankfully Binns had given his test last week, and Flitwick had promised no exam.

"You must achieve at least an A in Defence in order to take the NEWT-level course," she lectured them. "The Aurors currently require O, but the Ministry is considering the stringency of the qualification parameters. The Ministry needs everyone to do their part. Still, you should aim to meet the current requirements. There are no guarantees, of course. Yes, Miss Greengrass?"

"Surely the Aurors can use less-talented wizards in roles other than front-line duty," Daphne said. Her tone implied only an idiot would think otherwise.

"The Ministry is considering how best to implement such support. These things must be done carefully, or the result will not be all we hope to achieve."

The Ministry, according to Professor Umbridge, could do anything. She was constantly saying things in class like, "The Minister says" this and that, or "Ministry policy is" such and such. With praise to Merlin, the bell rang. Harry stood up and moved for the door.

"I will not be at Hogwarts over the holiday. I must make my report to the Minister, and he is quite interested in my findings. Things might be shaking up a bit in the next term. Happy Christmas, all of you."

Harry headed to the Great Hall for lunch and sat down almost with a crash. For a long second, he just enjoyed a peaceful moment. Despite the chaos of the table around him, he felt calm and at peace. Snape had told him to practice emptying his mind during the day now as well. It was exactly like his Animagus meditations, but not nearly so long. Ten seconds here and there did wonders for his focus and concentration.

"So we leave tomorrow morning, and we still haven't come up with a final prank on Weasley," Draco said as he cut his cold turkey sandwich diagonally.

"I still haven't seen him do more than talk, Dray," Zabini said. "Why bother? You'll only get into trouble."

"Stop calling me that. He deserves it."

"Why?"

"For being him."

"That's a stupid reason, Dray."

"You're stupid, frog. You know something? Every time this year we've suggested a little fun, you've turned up your nose at the idea. Just like with that troll in first year. You still haven't done anything to prove yourself."

"I can't believe you're still holding a grudge about the bloody troll. I don't have time to get 'proof' in your silly game, Dray. I've been studying a lot, just like the rest of you."

"Make Weasley lose his voice. Hit him with a Silencing Charm."

"Right here in the Great Hall?"

"Can't you cast it nonverbally?"

"No. Can you?"

"Naturally."

"Let's see it, then."

"I don't need to prove myself. You do, frog."

"I'm not bloody French," the black boy hissed. "I'm from an British colony. I actually attended two months worth of class here."

"Then I'll just have to give you another nickname. What rhymes with Blaise?"

"Laze?" suggested Harry.

"Perfect. Blaise the Laze."

"Oh, real original, Hair."

"Shut up, Laze, or I'll ask Pansy to come up with your name."

They ended up not pulling a prank at lunch. Their next class was double History, where Professor Binns seemed not to understand that this was the last day of term, assigning them reading for "next week".

The last lesson of the day was double Charms, and Professor Flitwick had no mercy on them.

"Hello, Slytherins!"

"Hello, Professor Flitwick."

"Books away, quills down, and heads up," Flitwick said cheerfully. "Pop quiz!"

"Sir!" "No!" "Oh, come on!" "Unfair!" "Last class of term!" "You promised!"

"You will all be caught off-guard with the variety of questions that come up on the OWL exam. You will have to call upon your knowledge instantly. First to get the question right earns five points."

Well, at least they'd get points out of it.

"What is the incantation for the Levitation Charm? Yes, Mister Malfoy."

"Wingardium leviosa."

"Five points! Name the three classes of Relocation Charms. Miss Greengrass?"

And so it went on.

When Flitwick finally let them leave, Harry felt completely wrung out. His brain literally hurt. He was contemplating heading to the hospital wing for a minor pain-relief potion. He'd brew it himself, but he couldn't think straight.

Food helped restore his equilibrium. Harry ate two large helpings of meatloaf and potatoes. In-between mouthfuls, he turned to the girl sitting to his left.

"Laine, would you like to go for a walk tonight?"

"Don't you have a prefect meeting?"

"I'm willing to skive. After the day I've had, I'd go right to sleep with all that droning on and on."

Laine giggled. "In that case, I'd love to."

"Pansy, cover for me tonight?"

"Sure. You owe me one."

"I thought you owed me one. Doesn't this make us even?"

"Oh, who can tell anymore," Pansy said with a laugh. "Diggory's meetings are so boring. Have fun and tell me all about it."

"I will," Harry and Laine said at the same time. They turned to each other with an embarassed expression.

"Awkward," she said.

"Not if we don't let it," Harry suggested.

"I'm for that. Let's go."

Harry snagged a few cookies and wrapped them up. He put the package in his pocket. He and Laine departed the Great Hall.

"Where to?"

"The ground floor?" he suggested.

"Going to be crowded once dinner gets out."

"The battlements?"

"It's snowing again."

"I like snow."

"I do too, but the wind is pretty bad too."

Harry was about to suggest the tapestry room in the dungeons when a sudden inspiration came to him.

"I've got it. Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

"Ooh, a surprise. I love surprises."

Harry and Laine held hands all the way up to the seventh floor. Harry paced back and forth in front of the wall, thinking hard about a place to have some private time with Laine in a romantic setting where they could kiss and be cosy.

As the door appeared, Laine gasped.

"A secret room! How'd you find this?"

Harry only grinned at her. "Wait until you see the inside."

Soft candlelight permeated the room. There was enough to see by, but not much more. The floor sank into a basin filled with soft pillows. A ancient record player began to spin, and romantic music began to play.

"What is this place?" Laine asked wonderously. "How can a room like this exist in a school?"

"It's a room that can be whatever you require it to be. If we wanted to brew a potion, it would give us cauldrons and ingredients and all. If we wanted to practice Defence, I imagine it would give us books of spells, targets, duelling dummies, and more. If I were still training for the second task, I could probably get a swimming pool filled with icy lake water."

"Since you want a place to snog with a girl, we get this romantic place to snuggle."

"Yes."

"You are incredible," Laine said as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his. They fell into the pile of pillows, taking one last night of pleasure in each other's company before the cruel necessity of parting on the morrow.

* * *

Harry entered the dorm room several hours later and lay down on his bed with a sigh of contentment. His neck was still tingling from the touch of Laine's teeth. He was certain to have at least one mark to cover up. He'd probably left a few of his own.

"Been out with Laine again?" Draco asked.

"Yeah. I took her up to that room you found. Absolutely smashing find, old chap. I wanted a room where we could snog and not be disturbed. It conjured up a whole bunch of these soft pillows for us to sit on. No bed, but there was a record player playing this slow, waltzy stuff. Laine was really into it. She snogged me pretty good."

"Gotten further than kissing?"

"Not much before tonight."

"What happened tonight?"

"Well I finally got up enough courage to put my hand on her chest."

"Well done. She like it?"

"Oh, she was very enthusiastic. She sort of moaned and giggled at the same time, then she just kissed me harder."

"You go under the robes?"

"Yes, but not under her shirt," Harry said regretfully. "I wasn't quite that daring."

"Why not?"

"Afraid she'll say no."

"So she says no. Then you don't do that. But what if she says yes?"

"What if she thinks I'm too forward?"

"I don't think that'll be a problem, Harry. Laine's nuts about you, and very vocal about her opinion. If she wants you to stop, she'll tell you."

"Next time. How's your love life going? Still enjoying being single?"

"Quite. I've been getting a lot of homework done by not worrying about romance. Even on the bit of break we do have, we won't be attending any social events, so I wouldn't see a girl even if I had one. What's the point? I like this flirting I'm doing with Ginny. While I wouldn't be averse to a snog here and there, I'm quite content for now."

"A snog with Ginny?"

"Why are you laughing?"

"Just marvelling at how situations change."

"My parents arranged my betrothment to Pansy, but I hate being told what to do. I don't even want to date Pansy anymore. Father would jump out of his skin if I told him I was going to marry a Weasley."

"So now you're contemplating marriage."

"My brain goes weird places this year," Draco said. "I think it's the stress. Surely I must be mad to be contemplating any of this."

"I did meet a girl during my years at Beauxbatons," Blaise chimed in suddenly. "Raquel. She was a stunner. Skin the colour of coffee, so smooth. Eyes like midnight that you could just get so lost in. Pouty lips that were made for kissing. She was a little taller than me, and she had wonderful assets."

"How far did you get with her, Laze?"

"She let me play with her hair, Hair."

"That's all?" Harry had been running his hands through Laine's hair since their first encounter.

"She always kept her hair up, styled. The only time she ever took it down was when we were together. She liked me to play with it, even to pull it a little."

"Now you're making things up," Draco declared. "Girls hate it when you pull their hair."

"Not all, and not all the time."

"What else?"

"Kissing, of course. She was French."

* * *

The next morning was a hurried affair. Everyone hurried through showers and brushing their teeth, packed up the last few things, and left their trunks at the entrance to the dorm for the house elves to take down to the platform.

Nobody lingered in the Great Hall once breakfast was over. They all poured out of the castle and into the carriages which took them down to the train platform.

Everyone scrambled to find their luggage and board the Hogwarts Express, which was brilliant red against the pristine snow. Smoke poured from the stack as the driver called, "All aboard! Hogwarts Express leaving non-stop for London! All aboard!"

Crabbe and Theo were remaining at school. Theo had been invited to go home with Harry and Millie but had been unresponsive. He had wordlessly signed up when Professor Snape came around with the list. Crabbe had taken the quill and scrawled his signature as well.

Harry and Laine found a compartment right off and were joined by Draco and Ginny. Millie, Pansy, and Daphne claimed the compartment immediately next door.

"Have fun," Goyle said, moving further along.

"Where are you going?"

"Mandy said to find her."

"I'll go with you, Goyle," Pansy said. "I need to find Terry anyway, and they'll likely be together."

"I'm off as well," Tracy said. "Alex invited me to sit with him."

"Have fun, Tracy," Daphne said, "but not too much fun!"

They settled into the compartments, moving freely from one to another. They played cards, Gobstones, and ate far too much candy from the trolley.

"This would have been so much quicker if we could Apparate," Draco complained, stuffing a cauldron cake into his mouth.

"Agreed. Why do you have to be a certain age before being allowed to Apparate? If you can do it, why can't you? If you can't, you won't anyway."

"Some stupid Ministry rule, no doubt," Laine said confidently. "Maybe with the war on, they'll repeal it. I'd love to learn how to Apparate."

Just then, the door slid open. Pansy stepped in casually and took a seat.

"Hello. Anyone have a deck of cards?"

"Weren't you going to sit with Terry?"

"That was the plan. What wasn't part of the plan was breaking up with him."

"What?!" Laine gasped. "You broke up with Terry!"

"Yup. It was long since time. I've been hoping things might get better, but he's just not my type. He's nice enough, but it would never work out long-term."

Laine giggled. "So who's your next target?"

"Would it bother you greatly if I stole Harry away from you?"

Laine smiled confidently. "I have faith in his kisses. You're welcome to try, I suppose. Of course you know what will have to happen if you do."

"Naturally, but it's good that you have enough trust in him to let me even try. Never fear, Harry's not my fancy."

"Why not?" Harry demanded. "What's not to fancy?"

"I like blue eyes," she said with a shrug.

"I think I need to stretch my legs," Draco said, getting to his feet. "Harry, want to come along?"

"Good idea," Laine said brightly. "Ginny and I can see about fixing Pansy up with a nice, blue-eyed boy."

"You have fun with that."

Harry squeezed Laine's hand and stood up. The best mates exited the compartment and began to walk the length of the train.

"Looking to hex Weasley?" Harry asked.

"Not really. I really did need to take a walk."

"Too bad," Harry replied. "Because he's at the other end of this car."

Draco glanced up. "Wonderful. Can't I have just one day without having to see his ugly face?"

"Too much to ask, I suppose. Do me a favour and let him start things."

"Sure."

"Hey, it's the Champion! How's it going, Champ?"

"Just fine, Weasley," Harry replied, affecting a bored tone. "Get your Christmas shopping done yet?"

Weasley reddened a bit. "No, there was a small matter of Death Eaters in the village. Such a shame that they couldn't have taken you away with them."

"Yes, I know," Harry commisserated. "Then I would have been able to kill Voldemort and be even more famous and rich than I already am."

Weasley got even more red. "I don't care about your fame or money, Potter."

"Really? That's surprising. It's all you ever seem to talk about. You know, I really don't mind when you call me the champ. You're right. I am the winner of the Triwizard Tournament, and I'm a damned good Seeker."

"Not as good as me."

"Only because I was fouled."

"Don't lie, Slytherin. I never touched you."

"Watch your cheek when speaking to a prefect, Weasley, or it'll be house points and detention for you."

"You'd really give me detention just for calling you a liar?"

"If that were the case, you're overdue for a few dozen or more."

"Then you need to stop lying."

"Do you really want me to give you detention for Christmas, Weasley? Because I will."

Weasley looked furious, but even he had some common sense every now and again. He clearly did not relish the idea of having a detention before the new term started, before it was even January yet!

"I'll see you again, Potter. In that duelling club."

He turned and began to walk away.

"And get your sister something nice for Christmas!" Harry called after him.

"You know," said Draco, "if I'm ever going to get Ginny to go out with me, maybe I should make nicey-nice with the Weasel."

Harry snorted. "Yeah, try me again."

"No, seriously! We should send him a Christmas present. Something nice."

"He'd just throw it back at you."

"I won't tell him it's from me."

"What are you planning to give him?"

"I was thinking maybe some cologne. I don't think he bathes regularly."

"Just cologne? Not a potion?"

"Well, it would be a perfume that starts smelling rancid the instant he starts to sweat."

"That's more like the Draco I know."

"If there's a remote chance he might be seen in public with me, he'll need something to wear. Ah-hah! A self-tying tie that ties too tightly. It's perfect. He won't be able to say anything."

"A miracle, to be sure."

When they re-entered the compartment, Laine hopped up and pressed her lips briefly to Harry's.

"There you are. I was starting to wonder if you'd gotten in trouble for hexing Weasley."

"I never get in trouble for hexing Weasley."

She giggled. "Oh, you're too cute." She turned to the others. "I'm declaring this a snogging compartment. You can stay, but you've got to be about your own business."

Pansy laughed politely. "I'll be going then. No chance I'll ever lock lips with a Malfoy again."

"I'm crushed, honestly," Draco said dryly. "How about it, Ginny? Would you ever again?"

"What is this about 'again'? We've never, and if you've been telling anyone differently-!"

"No, no, I was just teasing," he said hastily. "I guess that answers the question, doesn't it?"

"Guess so," Ginny said, not letting him get in the last word. "So get out."

"You're not coming?"

"Nope. Sit down, Pansy, and scootch those lips my way."

Pansy laughed, a little more genuinely this time. "Well played, Ginny." She bent down and pecked the redhead on the cheek. "That's for being clever, but I have no particular desire to snog or watch snogging after having just broken up with my boyfriend. Want to come gossip with the sixth years?"

"Sure."

Draco looked confused, bemused, and he let out a lusty sigh. "I swear she's going to make me crazy."

He left.

"Lock the door," Laine said.

Harry did so, using a Locking Hex as he always did these days.

"And now, as Ginny so eloquently said, scootch those lips my way, Harry."


	16. Home For The Holidays

Harry was excited to be home. Most of his past Christmases had not been happy ones. He couldn't remember his first, and his next nine had been spent locked in the cupboard under the stairs. Only when he'd gone to Hogwarts had he discovered the joy of the holiday.

In their first year, he and Draco had spent the break together, exploring the castle. He'd gotten his first Christmas presents that year, delighting that his friends and their parents had thought enough of him to give gifts. He hadn't given any in return that day, but a few quick owl orders had let him at least get a few boxes of candy to make up for it.

The next year he'd gone home with Theo Nott. They'd spent the holiday receiving tutelage under Mr. Nott. They'd studied Defence, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, and more. It had been a very quiet Christmas, but thoroughly enjoyable.

In third year, he'd stayed with the Malfoys. He'd had a grand time, but he really only remembered his date with Tracy and the New Year's party. He'd gone so dizzy from all the snogging that his recollections were a bit hazy.

He'd missed out on his first Christmas with Sirius because of the Triwizard Tournament. While the Yule Ball had been fun, he'd have much rather spent the holiday with Sirius. The less he thought about the Yule Ball, the happier he was. The decay of his relationship with Padma and Michelle's antics had soured his memories.

This year Harry was determined that nothing would prevent the best Christmas ever. He'd sent away via owl and gotten Sirius a new broomstick, a Firebolt. His godfather had once played Quidditch; perhaps he would again. It was the only present he'd managed to pick out.

Sirius had picked him up at the train station, and they rode to Grimmauld Place on the motorbike. Even though it was winter, Sirius handled the machine with delicate skill.

"Special Charms," Sirius explained. "They help keep traction on these wet roads."

"So what do we do for Christmas?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we can obviously decorate."

"Already mostly done. Remus, Lucius, and I have had a lot of time on our hands."

"Did you do traditional stuff or what?"

"Well, we put up a tree, lots of tinsel, bells, a menorah -"

"A menorah? Are we Jewish?"

"No, but why let that stop us?"

Harry couldn't find fault with that line of reasoning.

Sirius, Remus, and Mr. Malfoy had indeed had too much time on their hands. Grimmauld Place was downright bright and cheerful, which was especially impressive given that the house had a gloomy past. Now the Christmas spirit filled the halls.

Shadow was no longer permitted. In addition to the normal gas lights, clusters of faeries provided soft illumination. Fires roared in every fireplace.

The house was all decked out with red and green bunting, and streamers covered every railing. All of the portraits were garnished with wreathes of holly and berries. Everlasting Icicles hung off every surface.

Music was everywhere. Wizarding wireless units were set up in the dining room, ball room, and drawing room. The WBC was running nothing but modern bands playing classic carols. A charmed string quartet played more traditional carols with a brass accompaniment in the centre hall. Bells tinkled merrily in the corners.

The portraits had been enchanted to sing rude carols. Harry learned quite a few verses that would scandalize Professor Umbridge.

The Christmas tree was set up in the hall on the ground floor in front of the wall where Mother Black's portrait had once been stuck. The pine was enormous, and the strong scent overwhelming. The lower branches brushed the walls on three sides and the angel on top shone down from the second floor. Green, red, silver, or gold points of light glowed from the tip of every branch. White garland was draped all over, and many presents were already under the boughs.

Harry felt a strange urge come over him. Quick as a flash, he changed into his mongoose form and dove into the pile of bright and shiny paper. He sniffed at all the boxes, instantly able to tell who had wrapped what. He scurried up the trunk into the branches, looking out at Sirius, who was laughing uproariously. Remus came out to see what was going on, and when he followed Sirius' shaking finger to Harry, peeking out from under the needles, he too began to snicker.

Harry, with his human mind, told them to knock it off, but all that came out was a high-pitched snarl. He kept going, telling them off as best he could, but it only made them laugh harder.

"Look at him, Padfoot," Moony wheezed. "Have you ever heard anyone chitter more indignantly?"

"No, I haven't." Sirius stopped for a moment, then he began again, even harder.

"What is it?"

"That who he is, Moony. Chitter."

Moony grinned. "So he is."

Harry popped out of the tree and changed back. "Stop laughing at me."

"Sure, Chitter," Sirius said, trying to hold a straight face.

"No way."

"Oh yes. Isn't that right, Moony?"

"Oh, it truly is, Padfoot."

"The recipient of a name is not allowed to argue. It occurs when the time is right. We, the surviving members of the group sometimes known as Marauders, welcome Chitter to our company and grant him all the rights and responsibilities accompanied therein."

Harry wanted to keep balking, but somehow he just couldn't. A name. He had a name at last.

* * *

Harry was in quite a bind as far as presents were concerned. The Hogsmeade weekend had been ruined by Death Eaters, and he had been unable to do any Christmas shopping. Furthermore, with the restrictions on his own movements, Harry held out little hope of being allowed free run of Diagon Alley. He knew better than to even ask. He could plainly see that it was a poor life choice to risk drawing an attack in a crowded Alley. Plenty of people would get hurt. He didn't care to live with that responsibility.

At the very least, Harry needed to get Laine a present. Though nothing had been said officially, there seemed to be an understanding between them. They didn't do boyfriend/girlfriend things like work together in class or study together. Often, they were talking to one of their mates about an assignment, and it was difficult to be romantic in the common room. Their relationship consisted of the occasional walk to class, flying together in Quidditch practice, walking around the grounds or the battlements, and snogging in the odd corner here and there.

Harry was okay with that. This year, he probably couldn't handle much more, but while Laine may have been pushy, she wasn't pushy in the bad way. She gave him as much leeway as he needed. If he didn't see her other than at practice for a week because he was working frantically on four essays all due on Thursday, then she didn't pester him about it.

That was the difference between Laine and Tracy. While they'd been seeing each other, Tracy had been very jealous of Harry's time. Laine wasn't insecure, and she didn't ask him where he'd been or who he'd been with. She trusted him, and it was an absolutely wonderful feeling.

He wanted to get her something nice for Christmas by way of thanks, but he had no idea what without looking around in a store. He wondered if Sirius would mind if he gave away some of the Black family jewels.

_There's this old thing_ , he thought, glancing at the gold locket that he'd found last year while cleaning the house. It was heavy and ornate, engraved with a serpentine 'S'. _Could stand for Slater, I suppose._

Harry went to go see what Sirius had to say. He was alone in the dining room with a ham sandwich and a cup of tea.

"Sirius? I know we can't exactly go out and about in Diagon Alley, but I didn't get to do any shopping on the Hogsmeade weekend. I haven't got any presents for anyone. I don't know what to do. I could place owl orders, but I have no idea what I want to get anyone. What do I get for Laine? Or any of the girls, for that matter? Draco seems to think we're at the stage where we should move beyond candy and flowers."

"Girls always like candy and flowers. Don't let anyone tell you differently. If you really want to make them go giddy, though, I have an idea. You're a pretty good hand with Potions, right?"

"Yes."

"There's a book I found in the library that I'm sure Mother never read. It's filled with all kinds of spells and potions to brighten up a home and fill it with warmth and cheer. Why not look up a few of those potions and do some brewing? A gift made is much more personal than one bought."

Like always, Harry's godfather had a suggestion that was quite out of the ordinary. It sounded like a fine idea, and Harry did enjoy potion-making. Maybe he could amuse himself and break down the ingredients and pick out magical effects.

"That's excellent, Sirius. Brilliant, even."

After receiving the book from Sirius, the only question was where he would work. Grimmauld Place didn't have a potions laboratory. His best bet was the kitchens. He looked around, assessing his resources. His standard size 2 pewter cauldron was at school. There were pots available, but Harry wasn't sure how that would impact the preparation.

"Kreacher!"

The house elf appeared with a stunning bang. He bowed low to the floor.

"Kreacher answers like the good elf he is. How may Kreacher serve the young Master today?"

"Are there any cauldrons in the house suitable for brewing potions?"

"Many things were discarded when the Master took up residence again. Of these, none were useable cauldrons. Mistress had many treasures, and Kreacher was there when she acquired a solid brass cauldron decorated with Roman carvings. It was many hundreds of years old, and Kreacher saved this valuable cauldron because Mistress would never want such a prize to be lost."

"You have this cauldron?"

"Kreacher does."

"Thank you for saving it, Kreacher. Would you bring it to me now? I need to brew a potion."

"Kreacher is overjoyed to have served well." He disappeared and reappeared three seconds later with a size 4 cauldron that he could have easily used for a bathtub.

"Well done, Kreacher," Harry said, completely satisfied with his new acquisition. "It's perfect."

Kreacher bowed again and disappeared with a bang.

Harry set the cauldron up in the centre of the floor in front of the fireplace. It was easier to redirect existing flames than to summon fire out of nothing. As he didn't have a thermometer handy, the more control he had over the heat, the better.

His Potions kit was in his trunk, so Harry left a cauldron full of water to boil and hurried upstairs. Most of the ingredients required were fairly common, and what he didn't have, Kreacher retrieved from the pantry.

A single portion of Everlasting Essence would freshen several rooms. They were quite easy, it turned out, and he made a number of different scents over the next few days. Two or three for each girl he knew seemed a suitable present. While the potions would do for a start, he wanted to get Laine something a bit more up-scale.

Harry's eyes were again drawn to the 'S' locket. It wasn't a part of the Black family collection. It would have been a 'B' if that were the case. If he hadn't thought it interesting, it would have been pitched with so much else during the summer cleaning. There was no real reason not to give it to Laine.

His mind made up, Harry picked it up and tried once more to open the thing. The mechanism had seized, and even Sirius hadn't been able to fix it. Harry had no more luck now. He Transfigured a sheet of parchment into a box and quickly wrapped the locket. He put it in another box with a pair of sunflower-scented Everlasting Essences in jars.

Harry's first presents had been from his new friends at school. He'd quickly learned that giving a gift was a joy in itself, seeing how his friends enjoyed the things he picked out for them. It had been nigh impossible to shop for anyone this year, but it was always the thought that counted.

* * *

Harry wasn't sure how or why the prank competition started.

He'd been sitting at the breakfast table with Sirius, Remus, and Mr. Malfoy discussing his classes when all of a sudden Mr. Malfoy's hair all fell out!

He picked up a lock of blond hair and studied it quite calmly.

"I presume this is your doing, cousin?"

"Blast," Sirius said, sounding disappointed. "You were supposed to get a lot angrier than that."

"Ah-hah! So you admit it!"

"With pride."

"Kindly reverse it."

"What's the point of the joke then? Fix it yourself, if you can. This should prove most entertaining."

The look Mr. Malfoy gave him would have melted metal. He then resumed drinking his tea.

"That's it?" Sirius couldn't help but ask.

"A well-done prank, cousin. Five points to Gryffindor."

"You're taking all the fun out of this, Lucius."

"Am I? How dreadfully dull of me. How ever will I go on?"

Sirius smiled wickedly, and Harry got a chill. He had the look of a cocky man accepting a challenge he thought easy.

Harry followed his godfather into the duelling room.

"Nicely done. What was it?"

"I found this delightful little product in Zonko's under the brand of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. It's called Balding Bazaar Balm. I put some on his hairbrush."

"That's awful. Is there a fix?"

"If he tries to cure it, there will be all sorts of amusing effects. I'm disappointed he didn't try."

"How long does it last?"

"Days."

Harry snickered. "Poor Mister Malfoy."

The next prank sprang on Remus. He popped a candy in his mouth after lunch, and suddenly he became a bright yellow canary.

When he recovered, Harry and Sirius went to Malfoy Manor. Soon Elan was puking his guts out, Draco had sprouted a lion's head, and Mrs. Malfoy was running around squawking like a chicken. Dobby and Nibby stood by looking utterly confused and helpless.

Godfather and son exchanged satisfied looks.

"Good fun," Harry said.

"Indeed."

The next day, Sirius woke Harry at a very unjustifiable hour. Harry yawned hugely, wondering what was going on. It was barely early.

"Good morning, Harry."

"Hi, Sirius. Is this one of your pranks? Decided to get me finally?"

"A marvellous thought, but no. I was actually wondering what ideas you might have. If we're to have any fun at all this week, we're going to have to make it ourselves."

Harry considered that for a moment.

"I could come up with a few, I suppose."

Sirius grinned. "Show me what you've got."

It was very exhilerating to be creeping around the house setting minor jinxes for Remus and Mr. Malfoy. When he was finished, Harry sat with Sirius by the Christmas tree sipping tea and munching on some bacon sandwiches to watch events unfold.

Remus was the first to get up, and he ambled off to the bathroom to wash and groom. He returned to his room, towel around his waist. As Sirius had once told him, Remus was a very hairy fellow, but it didn't conceal everything. Harry had never seen the man's scars before. There were hundreds, each jagged and violent; some new, many old.

A few moments later, they heard the unmistakeable sound of swearing. Remus was trying to keep his voice down, but finally he had to shout in frustration.

"Stupid pants! Get on me! Come on! Wait! What? Hey!"

Bright blue underpants soared out into the hallway. Remus, clutching a towel desperately around his waist with one hand, came running.

"Come back here!" he yelled, chasing them down the hall. They led him a merry chase around the open space, down the stairs to the ground floor, and sailed off into the ballroom as Remus skittered to a stop in front of Sirius, who was laughing uncontrollably.

"Something funny, Padfoot?"

"You!" he howled.

"You're pretty funny, Black."

"Not I," he denied.

"Oh no?"

"Harry."

"I did no such thing," Harry lied instantly, but he couldn't stop grinning.

"This means war, Potter," Remus said solemnly, marching back upstairs.

Mr. Malfoy, emerging from his room, said, "What is all the fuss about?"

"Underpants," Remus said shortly.

Mr. Malfoy looked extremely puzzled, but he did not inquire further. He headed for the bathroom instead.

Sirius had finally managed to get himself under control. "That was kingly, Harry. Well done."

"Thank you."

"What's next?"

"Wait and see. We should move to the dining room now that everyone's awake."

Thoroughly piqued, Sirius followed Harry and poured himself some more tea.

Mr. Malfoy was the first to come to the table. His bathing was much quicker now that he no longer had to shampoo his hair. He took several bacon sandwiches, several boiled eggs, and a large slice of melon. He poured a glass of juice, took a sip, and reached for his fork.

With a dull thunk, the gold flatware slipped from his fingers. He tried to pick it up again but knocked it away. With a determined expression, he reached out and clumsily managed to grab it. As he changed his grip to use it, though, he somehow stuck himself with the tines. Pain flashed across his face, and he sighed.

It had been a fantastic effort just to get the fork, but now he couldn't seem to get the food from his plate to his mouth. He glared at Sirius, who was chortling mirthfully.

"I'm so glad to be able to amuse you. Do you mind?"

"Sorry, Mister Malfoy." Harry cancelled the spell.

"Not you too!"

"Yup."

"Very well."

After breakfast, Harry went to visit with Elan and Draco. Sirius went along to see Mrs. Malfoy.

All was status quo until lunchtime. Sirius excused himself to wash his hands. They were sitting and waiting for him when an stampede of mice entered the dining room. Mrs. Malfoy shrieked loudly, and she climbed up on her chair. She surprised Harry by drawing her wand from her sleeve and casting a spell he didn't recognize.

There was a snap, like an amazingly large mousetrap, and all of the mice skittered to a halt. With a wave, they were all collected into a pile. She Vanished them with ease.

"Sirius!" she said with a warning note in her voice.

"Narcissa!" came his voice from far away.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing? Or something?"

"Is something going on?"

"I will not keep yelling across the house to you. Join us at once."

Sirius sauntered in.

"What exactly do you think you're doing? Don't even try to pretend you didn't make those mice. Grow up."

"Never."

Elan and Draco wore identical neutral expressions. They didn't dare laugh at their mother. Harry was trying his best to match them, but he wasn't used to holding in his mirth. A snort slipped out. Fortunately Mrs. Malfoy was still giving Sirius the evil eye.

After escaping from the table, Harry and Draco turned on the wireless to catch the Quidditch match. Though the sport had been deemed to be essential to the national morale, security at matches had become a nightmare. The Ministry, unable to devote the resources, had simply decreed that matches would no longer be public. Only the players, officials, and neutral witnesses were present in the stadiums now. The owners had been howling about the lost revenue, but there was little they could do without hiring an army, and all the best candidates had gone into the Aurors anyway.

Montrose was playing Chudley, and it looked to be a massacre.

In between goals, Harry and Draco were practically interrogated by Elan. The older boy had been confined to the houses for six months now, and he appeared hungry for conversation. They talked of girls, and Harry told Elan about his new relationship with Laine. They discussed lifting weights, and Elan beat them both at arm wrestling. Elan told them about his letter-writing campaign.

When the match was over, Draco stood up and stretched.

"Want to go throw the quaffle around?"

* * *

On Christmas Eve, Harry and Sirius sat in the drawing room in front of the roaring fire. Candy canes were dissolving in their hot chocolate as midnight drew nearer.

Shadows danced on the walls, cast by the flickering flames. Outside the window, fluffy flakes of snow fell slowly, brilliant white against the dark of night. Time seemed to pass with infinite slowness, and Harry wouldn't have it any other way.

Having never known Christmas, Harry was naturally curious to hear Sirius tell stories about his own experiences growing up.

"We got nice gifts, tons of expensive things. Piles of clothes every year. Enough candy to make us sick. Our parents did love us, after a fashion. We loved them too. It was all we knew. It wasn't until I got older that things started to change. We always had to wait until morning to open our presents. No matter how much Regulus and I begged, we never got around my father. Since I'm the grown-up now-"

Harry snorted.

"-I believe we will start a new tradition. Would you like to open one gift tonight?"

"Sure."

"Then open this."

Sirius handed Harry a box wrapped in red paper with silver ribbon.

Harry tore off the shiny covering with glee.

"Wow." Harry didn't know what to say. "It's magnificent."

"Do you like it?"

"How could I not?"

"I worried you might find a way."

It was a picture of Harry and Sirius on the motorbike, tearing through the streets of London at high speed. They looked like complete maniacs, with devil-may-care grins.

"It's great."

"Good."

"How'd you get this?"

Sirius only winked.

Harry knew right where he would hang it. He was about to tell Sirius when he was interrupted by a yawn.

"I think I should turn in."

Sirius hugged him tightly.

"Good night, Harry."

The next morning, Harry's eyes snapped open at earliest light. This was his first Christmas at home. Oh, Harry knew he'd had one year with his mum and dad, but his only memories were pictures. This was his first Christmas with Sirius, their first Christmas together as a family. Home and family mattered tremendously to Harry, since he'd grown up with neither. He'd never had cause to celebrate Christmas before coming to Hogwarts. He wasn't religious, but the recent blessings in his life definitely had him convinced there was a higher power.

The floor underneath the Christmas tree was positively littered with brightly wrapped boxes. Sorting through the presents took a fair amount of time, and the gifts from his friends were very nice. Sirius gave him a dozen new music crystals and a new wireless with several crystal slots. Remus gave him a wooden shelf unit and several binders to hold his Chocolate Frog cards.

Mr. Malfoy's present was at once amazing and stunning. It was a series of folders, each marked with one of his O.W.L. subjects. Inside every folder were dozens of parchments, each with a bold 'O' on the top.

"Several years ago when Elan was getting ready to take his OWLs, I had one of my friends from the testing committee get me all the best exams from the past twenty years. They sell books and guides with old exam questions and sample responses, but I prefer to go right to the best examples."

Dear Merlin, what a fantastic present.

"Mister Malfoy, I don't know what to say other than 'thank you'."

"You are most welcome, Harry. You'll do fantastic. I just know it."

"Here, Lucius, this is for you."

"A present, Sirius? I'm touched."

"I think I'm touched. In the head. Yes, I'm giving you a present."

"It's not something dangerous inside? Your idea of a little fun?"

"The only dangerous thing around here is Remus, and he's sitting right there, Lucius."

"Cute, Sirius," Remus interjected.

"It's a real gift, Lucius. Just open it already."

Mr. Malfoy unwrapped the box with caution. When it did not explode, he peered inside.

"A hair ribbon?"

"What do you get for the man who can buy anything he wants? It's no ordinary hair ribbon. It will never come loose. It will never tangle. Or so the pretty girl at the counter assured me while I was gazing deep into her eyes."

"A magical hair ribbon?" Mr. Malfoy still seemed a bit taken aback. "Thank you, cousin. What a wonderful gift. I'm sure it will come in quite useful once my hair grows back. Here, this is for you."

Sirius tore off the wrapping.

"A receipt for a dozen groomings at a Muggle pet salon?"

"I also was in the dilema of what to get for a man who can buy anything he happens to desire. Twenty thousand Galleons for a pensieve, for instance. So I decided on something you could enjoy. Muggles do so pamper their pets." From his tone, Mr. Malfoy thought this was obviously a sign of a defective character, but it seemed he wasn't above taking advantage of it.

"Lucius, I don't know if you're trying to be funny or not, but you obviously put some strong thought into coming up with the idea in either case." Sirius looked like he was about to burst out laughing. "Thank you."

When the presents had all been opened, they adjourned to the dining room. Kreacher had been up since the crack of dawn working on the Christmas dinner, but he'd spared the time to make cinnamon-sugar scones that had been drizzled in melted butter. Harry devoured six and wanted more, despite his groaning tummy.

Before breakfast, Harry had moved all his presents into an orderly pile under the tree again to get them out of the way. Now he took the time to move them up to his room, moving very slowly because of his full belly. It was a lot of stairs, but he didn't feel nearly so full or sleepy by the time he had made three trips.

Shortly after noon, the four men of Grimmauld Place gathered in the sitting room to await the arrival of the guests.

Christmas was going to be a bit of a family reunion. Sirius was hosting the dinner at Grimmauld Place, and two of his cousins were coming. Narcissa Malfoy (née Black) and Andromeda Tonks (née Black) hadn't spoken in person for many years. Now both sisters had committed to trying to make peace. Sirius had finally managed to get them both to agree to at least try.

If that meeting wasn't potentially explosive enough, the introduction of the husbands was bound to be very tense as well. Lucius Malfoy, patriarch of a very pureblooded line, and Ted Tonks, Muggleborn, Ministry employee, were about as different as it was possible to be. Andromeda's marriage to Ted had caused her estrangement from the family in the first place.

"Is this really such a good idea?" Mr. Malfoy asked again.

"Whether it is or not, we're committed now," Sirius replied. "Got to see it through."

"It is a good idea," Harry said. "Look at how well you two get along."

Sirius snorted. Mr. Malfoy smiled.

"Now," Harry amended. "Look at how well you get along now, compared to a year ago. Talking to each other is the only way to work out the problems. Too much of the family has been fighting for too long. It's time to make peace."

"Harry is right," Mr. Malfoy said to Sirius. "Family is supposed to mean those you can trust no matter what. It is unseemly for such rancor to persist. I hope Narcissa can come to terms with Andromeda, but I admit, I am apprehensive about meeting this Muggleborn man."

"His name is Tonks," Sirius replied.

With a sudden pop of Apparition, Elan Malfoy appeared with his mother on his arm. Draco was a half-second later in appearing from thin air.

Mr. Malfoy went to her at once and took her hands. He bowed low and kissed each palm, and she embraced him warmly but properly. They leaned back and simply gazed into each others' eyes for a long moment.

"Oh, my dearest love," he said softly. "I have missed you."

"Lucius, my noble husband," she replied breathily. "At last I feel whole again. Such a wonderous Christmas present it is to be with you for an entire night."

She ran a hand over his smooth scalp. "What have they done to you? I miss your long hair, but I rather like this look. It's very sexy," she said with a giggle.

Mr. Malfoy, the most composed man in the world, flushed.

"Narcissa, please, we're not alone," he murmured.

"Well that's something we should correct, wouldn't you say?"

"Cissa, have you been drinking?"

"Only a drop or two. I certainly wasn't going to come here sober. I'm seeing my estranged sister today for the first time in twenty years, you know."

"Cissa, get ahold of yourself."

"Why don't you get ahold of me? I want my Christmas kisses."

Mrs. Malfoy wrapped her arms around her husband's neck and began dragging him towards the next room.

"Please excuse us," he managed to utter before he disappeared from sight.

They all looked after them for a moment in questioning wonder. Everyone then turned to Elan with unspoken questions.

"Please excuse Mother," he said in a strained voice. "She's quite nervous about seeing Aunt Andromeda again and has resorted to a small amount of reinforcement to shore up her resolve."

"Reinforcement? She's sloshed," Remus pronounced bluntly. "I could smell that wine from over here."

"I knew she was nervous about this meeting, but I didn't expect her to seek that much courage from a bottle," Sirius said, "You know, I think it's a bit amusing that she's had to have a few. Maybe that makes me a bad person. I don't know, but Narcissa is always unflappable. I take it as a good sign that she needed to get drunk. Maybe there's hope for her after all."

Sirius shook his head in amazement. "I'll be back. Have to go help Andy bring the family."

Sirius Disapparated.

"So, you Apparated yourself all the way here?" Harry said to Draco.

"Yeah," he said proudly. "I've certainly been here enough. I don't think I would have cared to try it from Hogsmeade, but from Wiltshire to London isn't too bad. Happy Christmas, Harry."

"Happy Christmas, Draco. Elan."

"You too, Harry."

Without warning, Sirius appeared again, Tonks by the hand. When he let go, she stumbled, knocking a chair over. Andromeda and Ted Tonks were right behind them.

"Nymphadora," Andromeda sighed as she saw the chair on the floor.

"I'm sorry!"

"Harry, so good to see you."

"Hi, Andromeda," Harry said as he was squeezed briefly about the middle.

"You remember my husband Ted."

"Of course."

"Well, that takes care of the niceties, doesn't it?" Ted said.

"At least until Narcissa gets here."

"She's already here," Sirius said. "She'll be joining us momentarily."

"Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Harry seems to think so, and I can't find fault with his argument. There's not much of the family left. Since we all seem to be of the same bent, why not try and reclaim the family name? Be known for something positive instead of pureblood mania."

"It will be very interesting, I have no doubt. You two must be my nephews."

"Hello, Aunt Andromeda," Elan said warmly. "It's very nice to finally meet you."

"My sister would raise a polite boy. Never could abide rudeness, Cissy. Elan, is it? Happy Christmas."

"Happy Christmas, Aunt Andromeda."

"Do you remember your way around this place, Andy?" Sirius asked.

"Probably. Let's have a walkthrough, though."

"Miss Tonks, may I escort you?"

"Certainly, Mister- Lupin, was it?"

Remus inclined his head. He offered his arm politely. Tonks took it with a laugh, and they preceded everyone out of the drawing room.

"Draco, do you have a few minutes?"

"Sure, Elan. I've had the tour a few times. I helped clean this place up. I could probably _give_ the tour."

The brothers Malfoy remained in the sitting room as Sirius, Harry, Andromeda, and Ted made their way out to hall.

"Whoa!" Ted said, clearly impressed by the sheer size of the house.

"I told you it was big," Andromeda said.

"I know, but there's nothing like seeing it for yourself."

"Oh, Sirius! Do you remember when we convinced Reg that there was a secret passage in that wall there?"

"You and I saw our fathers slip inside, but we didn't hear the password."

"He tried to get in all day, as I recall."

"That was only while you were there, Andy. He tried to sneak through that wall for three weeks. When he finally lost patience and blasted his way through, Father came as close to being angry with him as I ever saw. Then of course, Reg told him what I'd said, and then it was all on me. I think I was grounded for the rest of the summer."

"Oh the good times we had as children," Andromeda said wistfully, "before we became aware that our parents were manipulative and grossly misguided."

"It was all we knew," Sirius replied. "They did love us, after their own fashion."

"Only so long as we did as we were told. Start to think for yourself, dare to look at a man on his own merits rather than how closely his father married a cousin, and suddenly we were as good as the enemy. What with Bella joining up with the Death Eaters, Cissy was the only chance Mother and Father had to make an alliance. She said in her letters that she's happy, so at least there's one thing Lucius has going for him."

"Dear old Cissy," Sirius said with a sigh. "Do you know she's quite nervous about today?"

"Cissy? Nervous? I'd never have dreamed."

"Oh yes. She sought courage in a bottle of wine, don't you know? I hope she found it. She dragged Lucius off for a snog. I hope we don't interrupt them."

"Does it make me a bad person that I take a little pleasure in that? She had to get drunk before she could see her own sister."

"It's not very proper, is it?" Sirius asked slyly. "Whatever would Mother and Auntie say?"

"It's not proper in public," Andromeda replied, "but this is private. This is family. Completely different."

"That is what they'd say."

"Our father would be asking if she was drinking a good vintage. Mother would thank her for having the decency to not shag right here in front of us all. Lucius is her husband, after all, and Mother was always encouraging witches to have more children."

"Amazing the behaviour that gets tolerated so long as certain platitudes about blood are repeated every so often."

Andromeda's tone turned from reminiscent to slightly bitter. "But make the 'mistake' of marrying a very talented Muggleborn, and the world suddenly ends. Disowned, even blasted off the family tree."

"Yes, so you were," Sirius said. "If we're rebuilding the family, we might do something about that."

Andromeda snorted, but her attention was diverted by Mrs. Malfoy, who stood in the doorway. The two women locked eyes. Everyone else grew quiet, sensing that the moment had grown serious.

Andromeda was solid, firm in her resolve. She had taken her stance long ago and made no apologies about it then, and none about it now. Her chin was slightly raised in a questioning challenge.

Mrs. Malfoy stood steady, despite a considerable amount of wine. Her face was sombre. Her hands hung limply at her sides.

"You look well, Andy," she said at last.

"I am well, Cissy." There was no give in that steely tone.

"It is good to finally see you again. When you did not return my letters, I wondered if things had gone wrong for too long."

"I didn't really know what to say. Every time I put quill to parchment, I ended up wasting ink. I never thought you'd speak to me in civil tones again. I didn't know what game you might be playing."

"That is why I asked Sirius to write you. I knew it would take more than just my word for you to give me another chance."

"Is that what you think I've done?"

"It is. Why else would you be here, knowing that I would also be here?"

"You're right, Cissy. Against my better judgment, I am prepared to give you another chance."

Mrs. Malfoy stood there for a long moment and stepped forward towards her sister. She reached out, and Andromeda hesitated only a moment before grasping her sister's hands.

"Andy," Mrs. Malfoy whispered. "My sister, I have missed you. More than words can say, I have missed you."

"Cissy, it's good to see you. You look like hell. What have you done to yourself?"

"Oh, I was a bit edgy about seeing you, but that's all gone now. I don't know why I was in the first place. I love you, big sister. That's what I came here to tell you. That's what I wanted to say. Even if I wouldn't have made the choices you made, you're still my sister, and I love you."

Mrs. Malfoy was slurring her words only slightly. She seemed fairly cohesive, but her quest for courage had left definite side-effects.

"I don't want to have the big fight again. I hate Muggles. I don't think that will ever change. I don't trust Mudbl- Muggleborns, and I think they're no good, but I'm willing to look at this one and see if he's different from the rest."

It was not the most profound change of opinion. It wasn't as though Mrs. Malfoy had suddenly announced that both of her sons should marry Muggleborns. It was, however, a start, and all great journeys began with a single step. From the expression on her face, Andromeda knew that.

"Ted is a good man, Cissy. He treats me well and is an amazing father. Have you met our daughter Nymphadora?"

"Not yet. Nymphadora. What a lovely name."

"Harry tells me there's a Slytherin rule about ability ultimately being more important than blood. Ted is a very talented wizard. He works with the Accidental Magic Reversal Task Force."

"He treats you well?"

Andromeda nodded. Narcissa teared up.

"All I ever wanted was for you to be happy. I worried about what such an uncultured man would do to you."

"I am happy, Cissy, more than words can ever say."

"Andy, I've missed you."

"And I you, Cissy. And I you."

The sisters embraced, and Harry found himself fighting back a sniffle. Mrs. Malfoy wept on her sister's shoulder, and Andromeda herself got a bit misty-eyed.

Inside, Harry was cheering and gloating. It had been a long struggle to force the adults to stop being stupid, but things were finally getting better. First Sirius and Lucius had stopped hating each other, and now Mrs. Malfoy and her sister were reconciling.

When they broke apart, Mrs. Malfoy looked a fright. Her make-up was streaked, and she'd likely die of embarrassment once she sobered up. Nobody standing there cared at all.

"Cissy, this is my husband, Ted."

Ted, who had stayed back out of the way until now, leaned forward.

"Narcissa, I've heard so much about you."

Mrs. Malfoy gave a most unladylike snort. "I'm sure you have."

"It's not all bad things, I swear. It's actually mostly good things."

"There's a lot of good to tell, Cissy. Most of the swearing was reserved for stories about Mother and Father."

"I remember the big fights. I remember how angry Mother was. I don't think I ever heard her say anything kind about you after that."

"I'm not surprised. I was angry for a long time, too, but I did my best not to let it consume me."

"Ted, my sister tells me that you make her happy. Is that true?"

"I hope so. I try every day to make her smile."

"She deserves it. Thank you. I am pleased to meet you, and I hope to come to know you better."

"I should like that very much."

"Ted, Andy, this is my husband, Lucius."

"Lucius, good to meet you finally." Ted held out his hand expectantly.

Mr. Malfoy looked like he was about to fall over and die, but he slowly reached out and shook hands with Ted.

"Ted, thank you for coming today."

There was silence for a moment.

"Well," Harry said after the silence became awkward. "Shall we sit down and eat?"

"We've got to find Remus and Tonks, first," Sirius said.

"I'll find them. You all go."

Harry could move faster as a mongoose, so he shifted forms and scampered for the second floor as the adults headed for the dining room on the ground floor. His ears alert for the sound of voices, Harry nearly tripped and stumbled as he heard the soft noises of snogging.

The door to the guest bedroom was cracked, presumably so that the couple inside could better hear approaching people. They hadn't planned on a soft-footed mammal.

Harry poked his head inside and bit back a squeak of shock. Remus and Tonks were all wrapped up in each other's arms. Their kiss was deeply passionate. He had her leaned back like they did in movies.

Leaving the couple to their privacy, Harry padded quickly back downstairs. As he hit the grand staircase, he changed back to a boy.

"Did you find them?" Sirius asked as Harry sat down at the table.

Harry could barely keep his giggling suppressed. "Yup. They'll be along. In a bit, I imagine. They were just in the middle of something."

Sirius looked puzzled for a moment, but understanding soon bloomed on his face. "Oh ho! So that's who his mystery girl is."

"Must be. It all makes sense now."

"What is this?" Andromeda asked.

"It appears, dear cousin, that my best friend and your daughter have become, shall we say, involved with each other."

"What!" Ted choked.

"Yes, Harry here has just been traumatized by finding them in the most compromising of situations."

Ted's eyes were blazing. "I'll kill him."

"Calm down, Ted," Andromeda ordered. "You are not going to start a blood feud right when I'm reconciling with my sister. Nymphadora is a grown woman, and she can make her own choices."

"They were just snogging," Harry hastened to clarify.

"Oh. That's better, I suppose. Why wouldn't she tell us? If she's met someone, she ought to be proud to introduce him to us. What's she's afraid of?"

"Maybe that you'll react like this."

"I'd be thrilled if she'd come home one day talking about a man. She's put her social life on hold to go through Auror training, and I've been hoping she'd meet someone nice once she was back in the world."

"Lupin's a werewolf, dear," Andromeda said calmly.

"A what now?"

"Werewolf."

"The sort that changes in the full moon, yes?"

"Yes."

Ted snorted rudely. "I'm Muggleborn. I've known since I was five that lycanthropy is an afflicted condition that can only be passed while they're transformed. If we could somehow get access to Muggle biotechnology, we might even be able to find a cure for it."

"Magic has given us the Wolfsbane Potion, dear."

"An amazing invention it is," he agreed, "but it is not a cure either. Muggles understand things about disease that most wizards could never comprehend. I was working on a Ministry bill a few years ago with Arthur Weasley, the crank who's so fond of Muggle artefacts, that would have let us form a shell organization to get access to testing facilities, but with the budget cuts later that year, nothing ever came of it."

"So you're not mad about his condition."

"Of course not. I'm hurt that she couldn't tell us." He raised his voice. "Nymphadora Tonks! Dinner is served!"

Remus and Tonks walked in a few minutes later. They weren't touching, but Harry noticed that Remus' lips seemed a bit swollen. Tonks was a Metamorphmagus and could hide that, but not Remus.

"Hey, kids," Sirius said jovially. "So nice of you to join us. Did you have fun?"

"This house is amazing," Tonks said.

"What was your favourite part?"

"Oh! Um, the big open space, definitely. What a great concept for a house. I'd take a broom from floor to floor and forget the stairs."

"Maybe that'll be our big project next summer."

Andromeda made the introductions. "Nymphadora, this is your Aunt Narcissa and Uncle Lucius."

"Hello, Auntie. Hello, Uncle. Please call me Tonks."

Mrs. Malfoy smiled patiently. "I certainly will not. You have a beautiful name, dear, and so unique. There is much honouring of ancestors in the Black family tree, but I think your mother did well in choosing your name."

Tonks rolled her eyes, but she was good enough not to press the issue for the moment. She looked at Mr. Malfoy.

"Miss Tonks, I am pleased to meet you. Your reputation precedes you."

"Sirius, what have you been telling him?"

"That you're an Auror, that you were Moody's last apprentice, that you were in Hufflepuff -"

"Impressive feats, all of them," Mr. Malfoy hastened to add. "You are a credit to your family."

Tonks looked puzzled for a moment at all the praise. "Thanks. May we eat yet? I've worked up quite an appetite."

Now that everyone was present, Kreacher began serving the meal. It was a feast as magnificent as any at Hogwarts, though not as large to be sure. Two hams and two plump turkeys were the main course, with mashers, squash, beans, stuffing, cranberry sauce, and plenty of piping hot rolls. Harry ate as much as he could and washed it all down with hot apple cider and cold pumpkin juice.

Through the meal, Ted Tonks said little and kept staring at Remus. Once or twice, Remus caught him looking, but Ted met his gaze easily. He seemed to be sizing Remus up. Remus grew visibly more nervous.

When Kreacher served dessert, Ted finally got to the point. "Aren't you a little old for my daughter?"

Remus choked on his wine. Tonks instantly turned red, then she flashed back to her normal skintone.

"I beg your pardon?" Remus sputtered.

"Oh, denial will get you nowhere, Remus. You were seen. You may as well come clean and face your fate like a man."

Remus gulped. "Mister Tonks, I fancy your daughter. I believe she fancies me as well. I may be a bit older than her, but she's certainly of age to be making her own decisions."

"I understand you're a werewolf," Mr. Tonks ploughed forward relentlessly. Remus choked again. "How can I be certain that you won't bring harm on her?"

"Thanks to some very good friends, I am of no danger during the full moon. There is a special room in the basement of this house that has been secured with both magic and steel. I am contained, no threat to anyone other than myself."

"Are your intentions towards my daughter honourable?"

"Of course, sir. I think the world of Dora."

"How do you make your living? I know it is very difficult for werewolves to gain employment. Is she going to be the breadwinner?"

"I am self-employed. I don't have what one would call a profession. I do what I have to in order to get by. I'm a salesman, mostly."

"Door to door encyclopaedias?"

"Ice cream during the summers. I'm still developing new options. I do have one persistent job offer that I can always fall back on."

"How long have you and my daughter been sneaking around?"

"I wouldn't say we've been sneaking around, sir. I would not presume to judge the state of your relationship with Dora, but we have spoken many times about what to do and how to tell you both. Now that it's in the open, I'm actually relieved. We ask for your blessing."

"And you'll be giving it," Tonks said fiercely, grabbing Remus' arm possessively, "or every story you ever told me about you and mum is a lie."

"Do you love him, Nymphy?"

Tonks made an agonized face. "Daddy, don't call me that. Yes, I do. He has such a beautiful soul. I love him more than I could ever love any other man, wizard or Muggle."

"Then you have my blessing, but if he doesn't treat you right, he'll regret it."

Tonks laughed. "Daddy, don't say that."

"I would never treat her with anything other than total respect, sir," Remus said softly, gazing into Tonks' eyes.

Her hair slowly began to change from the vivid bubblegum pink she often favoured to a brilliant purple.

Andromeda rolled her eyes. "Ah, youth." She gazed fondly at her husband. "Remember when we were that way?"

"Still feel that way, Andy."

"Oh, you."

Mr. Malfoy reached out and squeezed his wife's hand. He said nothing, but when she met his eyes, she looked exactly like her sister.

"When are you going to settle down, Sirius?" Remus asked innocently, seeing that he had all the couples on his side.

Sirius choked and sputtered, "Settle down!"

"Yes," Mrs. Malfoy said firmly, tearing her eyes away from her husband. "Remus may be joking, but I am not. When are you going to find a nice girl, Sirius? You're far too old to still be a bachelor."

"I had an unexpected vacation."

"Even before that, there was nobody you stayed with for very long. You do like girls, don't you, cousin?"

"Of course I do. I just haven't found the right one yet."

"How hard have you tried? Once you were vindicated, you spent the entire summer in this house. Once Harry went back to school, you still were a recluse. Once Harry got involved in the tournament, you lived in a cramped room at the Hogs Head for the rest of the school year. You've spent the entire summer and the first term here in this house again. I know with the war on things are difficult, but to not even be inquiring of suitable ladies, when I am so very well-connected in all the right circles, just wounds me to the quick."

"I have better things to do than get married, especially to some high society tart."

"Yes, you do have important things to do, Sirius. Raising Harry is your sternest duty, and that is proper, but your intransigence on the matter of a wife conflicts with it. You need a wife because Harry needs a mother."

Silence reigned over the dinner table. Harry choked. Though he'd heard his parents talked about a great deal since he'd moved in with Sirius, to have their loss suddenly brought up over Christmas dinner stung him a bit.

Mrs. Malfoy spared him a sympathetic glance. "Harry, I'm sorry to upset you. This has actually been on my mind for quite some time. I just haven't had time to broach the subject. I'm worried about you. A boy needs a mother."

"He has a mother," Sirius said dangerously, no longer seeming amused by the line of conversation. "Her name is Lily Evans Potter."

"Yes, and she can comfort him when he is hurt, can she? Listen to him, give a mother's advice? You know she can't."

Harry swallowed hard. He didn't trust himself to speak yet.

"He's living here with three men. You, he, and this house all need a woman's touch."

"We're just fine, thank you very much."

"I'm going to start inquiring around. I should never have let it go this long. Damn the Order anyway for disrupting my home and my life. I'll find you a good wife, cousin, one whom you will love."

"Not interested."

"I won't even restrict my search to girls from ancient lineage. I won't exclude them, but I'll consider halfbloods and Muggleborns as well. I know it doesn't matter to you."

"That's very generous of you, Narcissa, but I'm still not looking to get married."

"This isn't just about you, Sirius. Think about Harry. Just think about it."

Sirius looked like he'd rather ask Professor Snape to make him a Stomach-Calming Draught.

"If you've all finished dessert, would you please join me in the sitting room?"

Sirius led the way to the first floor and opened the door to the drawing room. A fire crackled cheerfully in the hearth, sending dancing patterns of light all around the walls. As the room detected people arriving, the gas lights came on, brightening things up enough to see clearly.

"This is the family tree, the magical record of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black," Sirius said, his tone sour. "There's a lot of very bad people on there. There are a few good ones, but most of them have been blasted off. I'm head of the family now, and so the following power is available to me."

Sirius drew his wand and pointed it at the charred spot between Narcissa and Bellatrix.

"Andromeda Black, you are the daughter of Cygnus and Druella Black, the middle child. Once outcast, you are reconciled to the head of the family. I recognize your place among us."

A jolt of golden light zapped the char spot, wiping it away. Andromeda's name appeared, along with her birthday.

"I recognize your marriage to Theodore Nigel Tonks as acceptable to the family.

A new connection appeared on the tree, tied to Andromeda alone.

"I recognize your offspring, Nymphadora Tonks, and accept her as a part of the family."

Another new twig grew Tonks' full name below her parents. She looked disgusted by seeing it written out for all to read.

Sirius wasn't done yet.

"Furthermore, I hereby disinherit and deny Bellatrix Black, eldest daughter of Cygnus and Druella. I do not recognize her marriage to Lestrange as good for the family, and that is unacceptable. Their offspring, should they have any, will not be a part of the House of Black."

With a jolt of neon red light, Bellatrix's name was burned off the family tree. Rudolphus' name withered and vanished.

There was still more.

"My godson Harry James Potter is descended from Charlus Potter, whose wife was Dorea Black. His parents are dead. He has no living family connection save the House of Black. It is right and proper that we should protect and nourish our own blood. I recognize him as a part of the family and name him my heir."

A jagged line connected Charlus to the new branch with Harry's name right below Sirius. A spiral line linked the two.

"Well done, cousin," Narcissa murmured. "In one stroke, the family is renewed."

"Going to have to change the family words. We won't be pure after this generation. Not likely, anyway."

They talked away the afternoon and into the evening. Nobody was properly hungry, so they snacked on the leftovers from the magnificent feast.

After dinner, the Tonkses went home. Andromeda and Narcissa embraced fiercely. Ted and Lucius shook hands a little more casually. Tonks snogged Remus quite thoroughly now that their secret was out.

Lucius and Narcissa began making eyes at each other and soon retired for the night. After the enthusiastic greeting she'd given him earlier, Harry blushed to the roots, knowing exactly what they were about. It was not a thought he really wanted to have about his best mate's mum and dad. Draco himself looked like he wanted to sink into the floor, though Elan controlled himself a bit better.

Remus turned in early as well. "I'm absolutely stuffed and need to sleep some of this off. I'll see you in the morning."

"Do you feel like going back home?" Elan asked Draco.

"Not really. I'd like to have breakfast with Father."

"Me too. Cousin, may we avail ourselves of your hospitality?"

"Of course. Kreacher!"

"Yes, Master. How may Kreacher serve?"

"Prepare two of the guest rooms for Elan and Draco."

"Kreacher obeys."

"Thank you."

In only a few minutes, Kreacher reappeared to lead the brothers upstairs. With all the talk of bed, Harry found himself yawning.

"Harry, will you sit with me for awhile?"

"Of course, Sirius."

They sat in padded chairs in front of the fireplace, staring into the crackling flames, sipping hot chocolate with whipped cream from thick stone mugs.

"Quite a day."

"It was magnificent," Harry agreed.

"Things went well. Better than I expected. I thought for sure there would be at least one shouting match."

"Particularly when Ted found out about Remus."

Sirius smiled. "That was particularly unexpected. I'm glad for them."

"Me too."

Silence reigned for several moments.

"Harry, do you think I should get married?"

"If you want to. If you found the right girl."

"Have you ever wanted for your mother? I mean, of course you have, but recently? Since you moved in? Is there anything I haven't been able to do?"

"Well," Harry said hesitantly. "Not so much- I don't know. If it happens, I guess it would be nice, but I don't think I want to try and force it to happen. I don't think it works that way. It could be a great thing, but only if it happens naturally."

"I agree," Sirius said with relief. "Good. So I can tell Narcissa to save herself the effort."

"On the other hand," Harry said, still working it out slowly. "How can anything happen naturally if you don't ever meet the girl?"

Sirius blanched.

"I would think seeing if it'll happen naturally would require that you see and talk to her. I think that's what Missus Malfoy was saying. She wants to introduce you to a lot of different, eligible young women in the hopes that you'll hit it off with one of them."

"That we'll hit it off with one of them. I'm not going to go with any girl you don't like."

"Does that mean you're going to take me on your dates?"

"Only if we're doubling," Sirius quipped.


	17. The Truth About Tom Riddle

Harry's dreams were not of sugarplums.

He stood in front of a band of black-robed men wearing white masks. They followed him as he stalked purposefully toward the still-being-finished building. The very sight of it angered him, stirring bad memories. Tonight this place too would burn.

The door may have been open. He didn't bother to check before bursting it open with a silent spell. The crash caused a stirring, and a shout of warning raised the alarm. He distinctly heard the pop of Apparition, but the few who would get away did not concern him. The Ministry had so nicely gathered all of these filthy Mudbloods in one place. He would be happy to destroy them.

The Killing Curse was not allowed tonight. No, tonight was about terror, not war. Bone-Breakers, Bone-Dissolvers, Flesh-Dissolvers, and other Dark magic flew wild in every corner of the orphanage, not just the Cruciatus. The screams of the tortured mingled with the tears of the maimed. The smell of blood mingled with sweat, smoke, and fear to produce a stink that would have turned any normal wizard's stomach.

In addition to the children, none of whom was older than three, there were two adult wizards who hadn't been quick enough to Apparate out before the Disapparition Jinxes went up. The Curse of a Thousand Cuts taught these Mudblood-loving swine a lesson in propriety. When they had stopped shaking and sobbing, Harry summoned a wave of salt water with a casual wave of his wand. They shrieked so loud, their voices broke. They strained against their bonds, trying to escape from the awful pain.

Harry saw one of the older boys toddling towards him, a wand held backwards in two tiny hands. This one was a future Gryffindor, no doubt about it. He had to smile viciously.

The Flaying was brutal enough to a full-grown wizard, but on a child it was magnificent. Every inch of healthy pink skin was slowly peeled off. The boy's howls were music in his ears. Blood dripped down his limbs and pooled on the floor. He tried to take a step, but he fell down, splashing blood everywhere. He writhed and thrashed, shrieking to wake the dead.

Harry came awake and promptly vomited everywhere.

His skin was clammy. He couldn't stop shaking. He desperately tried to clear his mind, to empty himself of all emotion, but the sheer horror and disgust raised by the images burned into his brain made that impossible. His scar was throbbing so hard he felt like his skull would crack in half, and he was near blinded with whiteness from the pain. New images kept appearing, and Harry knew he was seeing into Voldemort's mind in real time. He fought off a stab of panic that he might be in way over his head -- so to speak -- and took a deep breath, ignoring the ripeness of his surroundings. He tried to detatch, to separate himself. He thought of nothing at all, as though he were fast asleep. Tears of frustration, anger, and sadness leaked from his clenched eyes to roll down his cheeks.

The visions began to slow, as the immediate killing stopped. Harry used the time to purge himself of feeling. He called on his mongoose, hoping that the animal nature of his mind would help break the connection. Sirius had used his dog form to lessen the influence of the dementors. What was Voldemort other than a soul-sucking, evil thing? His diary had tried to steal Ginny's soul, and his real one had found a new body.

Harry found a new body as well, and his mind cleared more. He filled his thoughts with the soothing darkness of the tunnels, the smell of the earth under his feet, and the sound of his mate sleeping. At last he felt calm and tranquil. He returned to his human form, keeping the simple thoughts at the forefront of his human brain.

The visions were gone, but Harry knew they were more than just a bad dream. Something awful was happening somewhere.

Harry pulled on his dressing gown and picked up his wand. He Vanished the vomit with a flourish and added a blast of cinnamon to cover the smell.

He knocked on Sirius' door. Light snoring could be heard through the thick oak.

Harry pushed open the door and peered inside. Sirius had thrown off the blankets and was curled in the foetal position. He appeared to be having a dog-dream, because his hands and feet were twitching, as though he were running.

"Sirius," Harry called.

There was no response.

"Sirius!" Harry said again.

"Urf!"

Harry couldn't help himself, and he snickered. The laughter helped to chase away a bit of the horror he'd seen tonight.

He turned into Chitter again and went to wake Sirius. Sitting in front of his face and poking him repeatedly with a paw did the trick.

Sirius flinched back as he opened his eyes. Harry changed back into a boy.

"Harry, what is it?"

"Bad dream. Nightmare, really."

"Tell me about it."

Harry shook his head. "I don't want to think about what I saw. The Death Eaters are killing tonight. Right now."

"Where?"

"I don't know. I saw a lot of kids being cut down."

"Kids?"

"Yeah." Harry felt bile rise in his throat. "What's he done?"

"We'll find out, Harry. We'll find out. Are you okay?" Sirius put his hand on Harry's forehead.

"I will be. My head hurts. Can I stay here with you?"

"Of course. Do you need anything to drink? Let me call Kreacher."

"A glass of water, please."

"Kreacher!"

The house elf appeared with a bang.

"Yes, Master?" He rose from his bow and noticed Harry. "Master Harry? You no sleepy at night?"

"Harry needs a glass of water, please, Kreacher. Also fetch a Pain-Relief Potion and some Dreamless Sleep."

"Kreacher obeys."

He was back in a handful of seconds. The potions helped tame the pain, and the water washed the taste out of his mouth.

"Thank you, Kreacher."

Sirius waved his wand and transfigured the armoire into a bed. Kreacher winked away without being asked and returned with pillows and bedding.

"Shall we try to get some shut-eye?"

Harry was already yawning.

"Good night, Sirius."

"Good night, Harry."

* * *

**MUGGLEBORN MASSACRE! MAGICAL ORPHANAGE DESTROYED!**

by Rita Skeeter

The Dark Mark hangs in the sky over the Home for Magical Children after the most unspeakably heinous act ever committed by the Death Eaters. Last night, the Home was attacked by seven followers of the so-called Dark Lord. The childrens' guardians were able to Apparate away with a few of the babes, but when they attempted to return for the others, found the Home inaccessible. They immediately contacted the Ministry to alert the Aurors, but there was little to be done. The Anti-Apparition spells were in place for blocks, and Aurors investigated the scene on foot.

"It were horrible," said Auror Ian Baldi. "I haven't thrown up since I were on my first field assignment fresh outta boot. I don't mind telling you what I saw in there made me wish I hadn't eaten such a big dinner."

Auror Baldi's further remarks are not fit for publication in a family newspaper. This reporter was nearly sick listening to his account. Seventeen children, all under the age of three, are dead. Four were in the process of being adopted into pureblood families under the Magical Child Protection Act.

"This monstrous act must only strengthen our resolve in these Dark times," said Minister Fudge this morning. "Here is your great and noble Dark Lord! Here is the proof of his character! We will not bow down and serve a barbarian with no sense of decency or morals. The murder of children is an act most heinous, and civilized wizards must condemn it. Do not let your politics get in the way of doing what is right! We need every wand to quell such madness."

A memorial service is being arranged by the Office of Muggle Relations, which has jurisdiction over the Magical Child Protection Agency. Those seeking to assist should contact Undersecretary Pettinato.

* * *

Survivors speak about narrow escape, see page 3

Investigation into inadequate protections, see page 3

Ministry to classify more Dark spells as Unforgiveable?, see page 4  
  
---  
  
 

Harry crumpled the rest of the morning Prophet heedlessly as he stared at the article with his nose nearly on the page. His eyes flashed from word to word, devouring the article in mere seconds. He read it again, grief wrenching at his spirit.

The Home for Magical Children was where Muggleborns were brought when taken away from their parents who couldn't understand them. There were only a few born in the whole United Kingdom every year. The Muggle world never missed them. Now the wizarding world would certainly miss them. That many "dirty" Muggleborns had made Voldemort a very tempting target, and he'd been unable to resist.

"A disgusting affair," Mrs. Malfoy said.

"A senseless tragedy," Mr. Malfoy agreed.

"There was no need for this at all," Sirius retorted. "There should never have been such a target for Voldemort to attack."

"Yes, cousin, we know you think that the orphanage should never have existed in the first place."

"Orphanage! That implies a certain condition. The parents are still alive and missing their babies."

"All those children," Mrs. Malfoy said softly. "What a monster Voldemort is."

Despite his anger, Harry was nonetheless impressed. He had never heard Mrs. Malfoy speak the verboten name.

"And his Death Eaters," Sirius reminded. "Don't forget them. Equally monstrous."

"Why was the Home not adequtely protected?" Mrs. Malfoy asked. "Surely someone must have predicted that it would be a target."

Mr. Malfoy looked incensed. "The Ministry did not understand the true depths of his depravity. They truly are incompetent."

"He tried to murder a child before!" Sirius sneered.

"Only one, and named in prophecy."

"Don't tell me you're defending this!"

"Never. This deliberate destruction of magic is self-defeating. I have studied wizarding geneology a great deal. I have come to a number of uncomfortable truths, namely that if Muggleborns are not allowed to join the gene pool, we will eventually be unable to bear children at all. Even now, our numbers are dwindling. I looked long and hard to find a suitable match for Draco who wasn't too closely related. I would argue that Muggleborns ought marry each other and bear children, to purify the magic in them. Then any further descendants would be completely free of Muggleness. It would nearly certainly mean that magic will be passed on. It's one of the old critera the families used to use. You needed a minimum of three generations of magic to even associate with us. The Davis family, for instance, can only trace their line back six generations. It was why I allowed Elan to court that floozy girl of theirs. She was pure enough that she wouldn't taint the Malfoy blood."

"Father!" Elan protested. "Must you continue to bring up Jamie? I've been seeing Bridget for a considerable time now."

"She's a very suitable match."

Mrs. Malfoy still looked very sad and lost in thought. "I worked very hard to make sure that the children would be treated well. To have it all come to this barbaric behaviour breaks my heart."

"It reminds me why I wanted to be quit of him."

"Delicate stomach, Lucius?" Sirius asked.

"I suppose so. We wizards are supposed to be above the senseless killing that characterizes the Muggles."

"You know he's not really a pureblood?" Harry added.

"What?" Mr. Malfoy was thunderstruck. "Lord Voldemort is not a pureblood?"

"His real name is Tom Riddle. His mother was a witch, but his father was a Muggle she entranced."

"How do you know this?"

Harry glanced at Draco. How much of this story did he want to tell right now?

"In my second year, we came across this old diary. Long story short, Riddle had put a piece of himself in the diary. Somehow Ginny Weasley got ahold of it, and Riddle tried to steal her soul."

Mr. Malfoy looked both disturbed and intrigued. "What happened?"

"Everyone thought I was the Heir of Slytherin, so I was out to clear my name. I followed them into the Chamber of Secrets and confronted Riddle. He told me that everything he'd done was to get face to face with me because I'd survived Voldemort's Killing Curse."

"A very curious thing, to be sure."

"His interest was more than idle. He wanted to know, because he himself was Voldemort."

"He was trying to find out how he'd been undone. I see."

"If you rearrange the letters of his full name, Tom Marvolo Riddle, it forms a declarative statement: I am Lord Voldemort."

"Amazing. What else do we know about this Riddle?"

"Not much. He was a Slytherin prefect, later Head Boy, but he disappeared after leaving school. He must have been on a quest for power, because when he returned, it was as Voldemort."

"Who else knows?"

"Dumbledore, for one. I'm sure a few people in the Order know."

"Why hasn't he used this information to discredit Voldemort? Half his followers or more would desert him instantly if they knew he wasn't a pureblood."

"I can't say. Maybe we ought to think about spreading the word. I know the perfect person for it, too."

Mr. Malfoy smiled. "Rita loves a scoop, but we'd need proof."

"Proof?" Sirius scoffed. "Since when has Rita Skeeter needed any sort of evidence before she starts writing?"

"A fair point." Mr. Malfoy shook his head again in disbelief. "A halfblood?"

"Gentlemen, please," Mrs. Malfoy said firmly. "No more talk of the war or politics today. It is Christmas. Let us enjoy our family, reunited once more. Those murdering knaves will pay for all their atrocities. Someday."

If Harry had never lent his support to that Act, it might not have passed, and those kids would still be safe at home with their natural parents. Harry knew it to be true, as much as he squirmed about it. It didn't change the fact that magical children belonged with magical parents. Muggles had no place raising a wizard or witch. Harry felt guilty, but he was undecided about if he _ought_ to feel guilty.

Ultimately, Voldemort was to blame. The murder had been done by him or on his orders. Harry refused to pull more guilt on his own shoulders than was absolutely his. He renounced all deeds but his own. If Voldemort hadn't been a blood-obsessed hypocrite, those children would still be alive and on their way to adoption.

"So are we going to be able to have a New Year's party?" Harry asked, changing the subject.

"Doubtful," Sirius said. "We had to go through some major contortions just to have a few guests at your birthday party. I don't think we could pull off any sort of large gathering."

Harry wanted to see Laine and have a go around the dancefloor with her. The crowd wouldn't have to be large, just select.

"I guess."

"No grand celebration, I'm afraid. Just a few friends in a room with the wireless on and perhaps some classical instruments charmed to play themselves."

"It sounds perfectly civilized to me," Mr. Malfoy said.

"I'm sorry we can't do more, Harry."

"That's okay, Sirius. Draco and I will probably play cards all night."

"There isn't much else. Mind if I get in on that game? Remus is liable to be out with Tonks. Narcissa and Lucius will be in his bedroom, and hopefully they remember the Silencing Charms this time."

Mrs. Malfoy flashed a disbelieving glance at her husband. A slow flush began to creep up her neck.

"Oh dear," Mr. Malfoy murmured. "I do apologize, cousin. To everyone, of course. In my delight at being reunited with my good lady wife, I have most dreadfully embarassed her. Please forgive me."

"Quite all right, Lucius," Sirius said with a wave of his hand. "It's all family. It reminds me that you're really human after all. Your heart beats, and you breathe air."

* * *

Dear Harry,

Thank you SO much for the locket! It's perfect! I don't even care that it doesn't open. It's a wonderful bit of jewelry. I think gold is so very pretty. I love how it shines. I'll wear it every day.

The Everlasting Essences were very thoughtful as well. I knew you were good at Potions, but those smell absolutely fantastic. I'll put one in my dormitory as soon as we get back.

I hope you like the painting. It's my own work. Rubbish, I know, but I've only been doing it for five years. I've always liked Stonehenge's history, and I can picture the place perfectly in my mind. I wish I'd done a better job of transfering it to the canvas.

Holiday is enjoyable enough, but I so strongly desire to return to Hogwarts where I can be swept into your strong arms. I miss your tender kisses, and my heart cries out for you. I cannot wait to see you again.

All my love,

Laine  
  
---  
  
 

The memory of Laine's kisses made Harry break out into an excited sweat. When they'd last snogged, they'd left several marks on each other. Sirius had grinned knowingly when he'd seen them and casually offered to show Harry another Concealing Charm.

Laine made him feel silly, like he'd stayed up all night or been hit with a Cheering Charm. She made him happy, and he instinctively wanted to make her happy too. He wanted to crack stupid jokes to make her smile. He wanted to be the one who made her eyes light up. He hesitated to call it love, but he knew how he felt about Laine.

Harry'd had an abnormal childhood, and that was putting it mildly. He'd never really known what love was. He supposed Vernon and Petunia loved each other after a fashion, but the way they spoiled Dudley was certainly not healthy. On the whole, they were not good role models. Without any social interaction, he'd never had a positive example.

That had all changed once he'd met the Malfoy family. Even though he'd since learned about Mr. Malfoy being a former Death Eater, it was clear that he loved and doted on his wife. Whenever he spoke of her, his voice was filled with respect, and when he watched her, his eyes were gentle. Mrs. Malfoy was forever touching her husband on the shoulder, elbow, or face, not even needing words to communicate her love.

Harry wanted that for himself someday. He was still very young, and while it was still too far in the future to be thinking in terms of forever, he liked Laine a lot. He was interested to see what their relationship had in store. She certainly seemed to understand him very well. She was easy to talk to, but silence didn't bother her. She was talented, both magically and otherwise. The painting she'd given him for Christmas definitely didn't seem done by an amateur.

He was very relieved that she liked the locket. He'd been so anxious that the bit of jewelry might be too much, or that she'd think he was dumb for not being able to fix the mechanism. Laine's opinion was important to him, and he didn't want to look like a fool in front of her.

 

Dear Laine,

The painting is amazing. As the Hufflepuffs would say, galactic. Stellar. I had no idea you were so good! Why wouldn't you ever show me your work before? You've got talent, girl!

I miss you too. I'll never last until the train ride. Will you be arriving at the station early? Perhaps we could claim a compartment for ourselves for awhile. I long to hold you in my arms again.

Yours,

Harry  
  
---  
  
 

* * *

Amongst the many good things that being on holiday enabled was that Harry got a chance to visit with Elan. Ever since he'd finished school, the elder Malfoy brother had been quite the socialite. He stayed out all night carousing with high society, making connections with influential people, and generally acting as the heir to a noble family ought behave. He had, that is, until the outbreak of war. His father had gone out on the night of Voldemort's return, found him, and sent him to the safety of Hogwarts. When the security of the secret had been confirmed, he'd returned home to Malfoy Manor.

"I've spent every day for the past six months going out of my mind. All I do is lay about. My days are filled with books and music. I've read so much lately I think my eyes are about to dry up and fall out. I've listened to every music crystal I own a hundred times over. I can sing every song. I could probably play them all, and I only play the piano. Christmas has been wonderful. I'm so glad to have people around again. I've been so lonely."

Elan sounded frustrated and bitter. Harry didn't need any help picking up on the older boy's moodiness with the way he was throwing his dumbells around.

"You haven't been coming over here regularly?" Harry said. Today's visit was the first Elan had made during the holiday other than Christmas itself.

Elan put his weights down and wiped his sweaty brow. "No, it's not that. Sirius and I have been lifting weights several times a week, but I haven't seen anyone other than him, Mother, Father, and Lupin since September. I don't interact with the Order people. Mother has restricted them to the east wing of the manor. I don't see them much anyway. There's nothing any of them would have to say to me since I can't even go outside without risking my neck. I'm just glad to see Draco, and you, Harry. How come you haven't visited me?"

"I've just been glad to be home. School is being brutal. I've got prefect meetings, Quidditch, duelling club, and so on."

"How goes the OWL year?"

"It's hell. All the teachers seem to think the only test we're going to take is in their subject."

"My hand has nearly fallen off a couple of times," Draco chimed in.

"You say there's a new duelling club?" Elan sounded curious now. Harry couldn't remember Elan ever having much of a proclivity for defence.

"That's great fun. To be able to hex other students while the professors smile approvingly? It doesn't get any better."

"Are you improving your duelling skills?"

"Considerably. I can cast continuously for nearly twice as long now. My aim is better."

"Mine too. I can cast faster." Draco wasn't boasting _too_ much.

"Lifting more weight yet? What are you up to now?"

"More than Draco," Harry said with a snicker.

"Only by ten pounds!"

"Are the ladies noticing?"

"You bet," Draco replied. "Harry hadn't been broken up with Padma for more than five minutes before Laine was catching his eye."

"Any luck on finding a new girl, Draco?"

"I'm not really trying. I'm far too busy with my obligations to worry about trying to make a girl happy. I've come to the conclusion that it's impossible to achieve anyway."

"Not if you've found the right one. I can always make Bridget happy."

"So is she the right one?"

"Maybe. Of course I'd have to spend some time with her to be able to tell for sure."

"I thought you two were pretty close?"

"We have been. I was starting to look at engagement rings when the war broke out. That's actually where I was when Father found me. Now, though, I wonder. I haven't been able to see her in person for months. She thinks I'm avoiding her, and the first two pages of every letter I write is spent telling her how much I miss her and want to be with her. It's true, but a fellow shouldn't have to _say_ it so much."

"Parvati threw plenty of fits because I couldn't see her. I hope Bridget doesn't take a page from her book."

"Thanks. Me too. I think I would be considerably more upset over Bridget than you were about Parvati."

"I'm sure you would be. Isn't it nearly lunchtime?"

"I want a shower before anything else," Harry said. He'd worked up quite a sweat.

Freshly washed, the three boys made their way to the dining room, where Sirius, Remus, and Lucius were already sitting down. Kreacher was just serving sliced turkey sandwiches.

"I have given the matter of Voldemort's blood some thought," Mr. Malfoy said. "We must use this knowledge to our best effect. His message of pureblood superiority and dominance will be proven a lie if the truth becomes known. We will make the public see that all he seeks is power for himself and his own glory. He will use any ideology to achieve it. To expose him, we must use our friends in the media. I have working relationships with several reporters, but for something this important, I trust only Rita Skeeter."

"The woman has absolutely no scruples," Sirius observed.

"Which happens to be exactly what we need right now."

"Will she do it?"

"Yes. Rita is quite fond of Harry."

"A thought that scares the hell out of me."

"If he wants to put the information out there, she will publish his words."

"Then let us set a meeting."

"Father, I should also like to go out this weekend."

"Out of the question. You know it is far too dangerous for you to leave the house."

"You just said you were going to set up a meeting between Rita and Harry!"

"That's different. This is critical to the war effort. We will take every precaution, and it is only because Rita is such an old friend of mine that we're letting Harry take the risk."

"I'll be careful. I don't plan to go out in public, just to see a few friends in private."

"It could be a trap. You could be ambushed." Mr. Malfoy looked sick at the very thought.

Elan let out a slow breath. "I can take precautions. Father-"

"No, listen to me, Elan. There is no way to assure your safety."

"Wasn't Harry able to have a meeting? He went and met with his mates' dads."

"One of them tried to kill him at that meeting. If Sirius hadn't been ready for treachery, it could have ended very badly. Moreover, there were Aurors present that day, something you don't have access to."

"You could arrange it. Ask some of your friends in the Ministry."

"If the matter were important enough, I would. What is it you want to accomplish?"

"I haven't been able to go out for months, Father. I need to maintain my connections with the others."

"Has your quill lost its eloquence? Your very name means style."

"It is not my failing, but theirs. They require the periodic reassurance of my presence."

"I am not about to have the Ministry waste valuable manpower in order to babysit your social outings, Elan. You'll just have to spend more time in your correspondence."

"Father, I completely understand your wish to keep me safe. I just believe I am being wasted locked up here. People talk to me; they trust me and, with time, will confide in me. I would be of far more use gathering information," he said, in a calm and respectful voice. "It's not just that I want to see my friends. I want to contribute to the war effort in some way - in any way! I'm going mad being shut up. I need to _do_ something!"

Mr. Malfoy's glare could have frozen Butterbeer. "Elan, trust that I have already considered and rejected such possibilities long ago. If there was a way you could be of use outside the manor, I would have already informed you of it," he said in a dangerously soft tone.

Elan must have recognized that his father would brook no further arguments along this line, so he changed his tact.

"I must be able to see Bridget, at least. I know you approve of her. I'm starting to forget what her voice sounds like. All I have to sustain me are my memories. I haven't seen her for nearly six months, and I'm really serious about her, Father. Do you know I'm thinking of asking her to marry me?"

"Finally!" Mr. Malfoy said with clear relief. "Your mother will be so pleased."

"If I keep neglecting her, she won't say yes. I must find a wife and carry on the family line. You've told me so many times. 

"I have."

"So I may see her?"

"No. Your safety could not be assured."

"I can look after myself, Father."

"Not against Death Eaters."

"I can Apparate very quickly."

"If they set the anti-Apparation spells?"

"Then I run. When I get beyond the field, I Apparate. I fight my way free if I have to."

"You would not stand a chance against even the worst of the Death Eaters. If you're truly bored, you should take the opportunity to become a better spellcaster. Your OWL and NEWT grades were not perfect, after all."

"Have you so little faith in me, Father?"

"Elan, you are my son, and I love you. Please know that I say these things not out of a lack of faith in your abilities but out of a surety of the cruelty of the enemy."

"Can we not out-think them? There must be a way."

"Absolutely not, Elan. For the last time, no. Do not ask me again."

Elan broke his father's gaze. He took a large swallow of water. "May I be excused?"

"Yes," Mr. Malfoy said with a sigh.

"Me too?" Harry asked.

"Go on, then."

Harry followed as Elan stalked down the hall to the arsenal. Draco was just a step behind as they caught the swinging door.

Elan threw himself into a chair, scowling darkly. "Bloody war," he muttered. "Bloody Dark Lord. I hate this stupid war. I hate being cooped up in the house. I can't go anywhere, can't see anyone. I can't even join the bloody Order because I'm really of no use. I'm not particularly skilled with magic. All I am is a family name and a charming personality, and ruggedly handsome, of course. All I do is write letters to my friends."

"It'll be all right, Elan."

"Easy for you to say, Draco. You're not the one whose girlfriend is going to break up with him because she never sees him."

"No, but I had my girlfriend dump me because I wouldn't tell her what I knew about the war effort. Stop feeling sorry for yourself."

"I'm going to see Bridget anyway," Elan suddenly declared. "Father will never know."

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that."

"All I have to do is Apparate from home during an Order meeting. Mother will never miss me. As long as I'm quick, I think I should be fine. Even a few minutes are better than nothing."

"You're going to get caught."

"Not if you cover for me."

"Now you're dragging me into this?"

"What are brothers for?"

"A fair point. I suppose I could, but I'll most likely be at school. Unless there's a meeting set for this week?"

"I wouldn't know," Elan practically growled. "Damn, I feel useless! I don't even _know_ anything! Every day, I send an owl to all of my friends, and I pray that I'll get a reply from them. I can't live with this worry. I can't stand not knowing if today will be the day that they die."

"Are you really prepared to deal with Father's wrath when you get caught?"

"He's already packed me off to Durmstrang. What else can he possibly do to me?"

"What about Mother? Her fury is even worse."

Harry had seen Mr. Malfoy angry before, but never Mrs. Malfoy. He didn't know how she could possibly be worse than her husband.

Harry and Draco did their best to talk Elan out of his ill-conceived plan for a couple of hours and finally appeared to have gotten through to him. When they got on brooms to practice the close-quarters manouvres, he took up his quill to once more exercise his eloquence.

* * *

The following day at around noontime, Harry sat in a private booth at the Leaky Cauldron. Sirius was with to him, with Remus a few seats away. In the event of emergency, Sirius had an illegal Portkey that would carry Harry to the park near Grimmauld Place, and Harry could Apparate himself to safety from there.

The blonde, curly-haired witch approaching the table was a few years older than Mr. Malfoy but didn't look a day over thirty. Her large blue eyes saw scandal everywhere, and a natural squareness to her jaw complemented her no-nonsense attitude and fierce tenacity. She was sharply dressed in a tight green sweater and had a white fur-lined cloak pulled up tight.

"Rita," Harry said warmly.

"Harry, my dear," the reporter replied, removing her cloak and hanging it up. "So good to see you."

"And you. All is well?"

"Very well. I've been busy with all of these Death Eater attacks. Nothing particularly scandalous, I'm afraid. Nothing until recently, anyway. Your friend Crabbe's father is finally ready to make a confession. There's a Wizengamot session scheduled for Monday morning."

"Confession? He finally broke?" Sirius interjected.

"Sirius Black, so good to finally meet you. You've been dodging me for the past year and a half." Rita smiled wickedly. "Yes, he broke. Those new cells they have at the Ministry are worlds better than the old prison. It took a little bit, but he's ready to sing like a canary."

"Good to hear," Harry replied. "I'm very curious as to why he thought it would be smart to try killing me in public."

"Myself as well. I'll be right there in the courtroom to get the full story."

"That's excellent, Rita. I know you'll give it all the sensation it deserves."

"Naturally, but that's Monday. What can I do for you today? The world's greatest journalist is always ready to help out a friend."

"Let's order drinks first."

Sirius ordered a hot tea with lemon. Harry got a hot chocolate with whipped cream. Rita's drink was a soda water with kiwi syrup.

"Thank you again for coming, Rita," Harry said. "There's nobody else we could possibly turn to in this matter. It's very exclusive, very dangerous."

Rita leaned in eagerly. "You've come to the right place, Harry. I _live_ for exciting scoops."

"I know Voldemort's true name."

Rita spilled her drink.

"How?" she asked breathlessly.

Sirius tapped the puddle with his wand and Vanished the mess. He tapped her glass, and it refilled itself.

"Long story. Voldemort-" she flinched again "-came out of nowhere about thirty years ago. He preached about purity of blood, damned all Muggles and Muggleborns, and wanted to purify the world. Yet he himself is not a pureblood."

"What?!" Were it not for the Privacy Charm that Sirius had cast, the whole pub surely would have turned in their direction.

"It's true. His real name is Tom Marvolo Riddle. You won't find any record of a wizard with that name, because Tom Riddle Senior was a Muggle."

"A Muggle?!" Poor Rita was having quite a shocking day.

"Yes. Voldemort's father was a Muggle, and his mum was a witch. The vaunted Lord Voldemort is, as he would term it, a Mudblood. Even I, with a Muggleborn mother, have purer magical blood than the most feared Dark wizard in an age."

Rita was frantically scratching with her quill.

"His mother got involved with a local minor noble. They married, but when she told him she was magical, he ran off and left her pregnant and alone. She left her baby on the doorstep of a Muggle orphanage and went off to die. Tom Junior was a wizard, though, so he went to Hogwarts. He was a Slytherin, and-"

"Slytherin? A halfblood in Slytherin?"

"Yes. We're not all purebloods. Vis, me."

"Of course."

"He was a Slytherin and eventually became a prefect and Head Boy. This is all in the school records. In his fifth year, he discovered the location of the Chamber of Secrets-"

"The Chamber of Secrets?!"

"Yes. He had the gift of Parseltongue, Slytherin's own talent, which let him open the Chamber and release the basilisk inside. He used it to murder Myrtle Henderson. The school was about to be closed when he framed Rubeus Hagrid for it all. Hagrid was raising a baby Acromantula in a room in the dungeons, and-"

"Not surprising."

"No, not at all. Hagrid got blamed and expelled. Then Riddle just kept his head down and finished school. Then he went off on a search for power. Nobody really heard from him after that. Then this fellow calling himself Voldemort showed up and starting causing trouble."

"Fascinating," Rita mumbled, quill scratching away.

"He hates his father's name, so he made up a new one for himself. Then he started to hate people using his fake name, so all of this 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named' rot started. He's got a lot of real problems."

"Apparently so. Oh, this is wonderful stuff, Harry."

"His whole Dark Lord schtick is nothing more than a charade. He's not interested in anything other than his own power. I urge the purebloods to reconsider their politics. Even if they sincerely believe they are right, don't follow a lie."

"I'm going to get an award for this. I'd better. If I publish this, my life will be in danger."

"Will you be safe, Rita?" Harry asked. "Do you need help?"

"Oh, this reporter knows a few things. I always need to be able to escape from a tight spot. Don't you worry yourself about me."

Rita finished her notes and rolled up the parchment. She tied a string around the scroll and tucked it into her black leather handbag. She put her quill to a fresh sheet.

"Now, Sirius," she said breathlessly. "Every unmarried witch under the age of forty-five, as well as a great many of the married ones, has been desperate to learn more about you. You were falsely imprisoned, a tragic victim of the war. You escaped at last, cleared your name, and sought to discharge your responsibilities as Harry's guardian. It is an astonishing tale, one that makes witches weepy with emotion. Such love, such devotion, and such devastating eyes make knees go weak. You are a wizard worth the having. What the world wants to know, Sirius, is what you are seeking in a witch. Stunning beauty? Magical talent? Homemaking skills? Are you looking for some good home cooking?"

"None of the above," Sirius said firmly.

"Is the famous Sirius Black no longer interested in witches?" Rita asked in an astonished voice. "Is he playing Quidditch for the other team now?"

Sirius scoffed. "No, Rita, nothing like that. I just don't have time to date. There's no sense in getting anyone's hopes up."

"What would it hurt to tell my readers what it is that might catch your eye? At least then, those who wouldn't make the cut can try to stop pining and find a more attainable husband."

"Nice try, Rita. More likely, the desperate ones would try to remake themselves into what I want."

"You're a clever enough wizard to winnow them out."

"Good sense of humour, must like flying, open-minded, and within three inches of my own height. Pet lovers only. Is that enough for you, Rita?"

"Certainly," she said with a purr. "You've just made me a very tidy sum. Thank you."

"Do I get a cut?"

Rita laughed merrily. "Whatever would you need it for?"

Following the revelation from Rita, Sirius went to the Ministry to poke around for information. He returned shortly before tea and found Harry in the drawing room with Remus and Mr. Malfoy.

"Rita was right. Crabbe finally made a confession."

"The new cells really did it," Harry marvelled.

"Yes. Voldemort put all sorts of spells in his mind to prevent us from using Veritaserum or any other coersive methods. Only his own will was enough to speak it, and Crabbe is not an imaginative man. He couldn't contemplate anything worse than his master's wrath. The new holding cell has been quite effective at breaking down his resistance. When they went to give him breakfast one morning, he was gibbering at the door, talking about the voices in the abyss. His wits had deserted him, but they took him to an interior cell. When he calmed down, he said he was ready to make a full confession. He's still a bit twitchy, but he signed his name to a dictated statement."

"Why did he try to kill me?"

"It was Voldemort's idea. Crabbe went right to him with your letter about a meeting. He was to keep you talking long enough to get his wand out and use the Killing Curse on you."

"I thought Voldemort wanted to kill me himself."

"He's gotten over it. He has his body back. The important thing now is that you die. If Crabbe was able to do it, think of the effect it would have on morale. He was a common grunt. Can you imagine a headline like 'Meathead Slays Boy-Who-Lived'? It'd be a coup. If it failed, if you were able to beat the curse a second time, then Voldemort would have gained knowledge."

"What about what actually happened? We caught Crabbe and put him in prison."

"No great loss. He's not important to Voldemort at all."

"He doesn't care any about his followers."

"No. There are a hundred others just like him who can be recruited. Younger, probably smarter, too."

"How many Death Eaters does he have, do we think?"

"Lucius?"

"I estimate somewhere in the vicinity of seventy or so. He had about a dozen answer the call that night, and there were a dozen he freed from their cells. The rest of the inmates were likely offered the choice of service or death."

"They were. Severus reports that nearly all of them accepted."

"More the fools, they," Mr. Malfoy said softly.

"Indeed." Sirius changed the subject. "How are you coming with your Apparition, Harry?"

"Not bad. I haven't had much of a chance to practice, but I went from floor to floor yesterday with Mister Malfoy calling numbers."

"I saw. How about longer distances?"

"I haven't had a chance to try for distance," Harry admitted.

"Perhaps we should arrange some further training in that regard. Draco managed to Appararate himself here from Wiltshire on Christmas. Do you think you could make it to the manor?"

"Maybe. I think I know it fairly well."

"The only safe place to Apparate is to the front foyer," Mr. Malfoy said. "Do you remember the family seal?"

The green and black shield with the silver 'M' popped vividly into Harry's mind.

" _Sanctimonia Vincet Semper_."

"Purity Always Conquers. Aside from the fountain in the courtyard, that is the only spot on the entire property where one may Apparate to. It is the only place inside the manor itself. Anywhere else will redirect you someplace very nasty."

"I'll remember."

"Sirius, you should be on the other end in case Harry Splinches himself."

"I haven't done that in months!" Harry protested.

"You haven't been _doing_ it in months," Mr. Malfoy shot back. "Let's play it safe."

"I'd be glad to help, Harry," Sirius said. "Tomorrow morning?"

"Sounds good."

* * *

**DARK LIAR! YOU-KNOW-WHO'S PAST REVEALED!**

by Rita Skeeter

Purebloods everywhere will shudder to learn the full depth of deception by the so-called Dark Lord. Information has come to light revealing that the great advocate of pureblood superiority is himself nothing more than a filthy Mudblood.

Tom Riddle, a former Slytherin prefect and Hogwarts Head Boy, was the son of a pureblood witch and the Muggle she entranced. When the relationship imploded, she left the babe at a Muggle orphanage, where he lived until he received his Hogwarts letter. He distinguished himself in school, earning the praise of all his professors. Everyone thought this bright and rising star would have an amazing future. Yet he disappeared shortly after finishing his education, and no one ever heard from him again.

Or so we thought.

Thirty years ago, we first began hearing rumours of a pureblood fanatic whose name was only whispered with the darkest fear. Voldemort. Scourge of Muggles and Muggleborns. Little did we know that the promising student had spent his time away delving deep into the Darkness, becoming something twisted and evil.

He launched a war against our society, determined to remake it according to his own fantastical imagination. Many were duped into following him. Many were bewitched into doing his bidding. Hundreds died. All for a lie.

* * *

Voldemort's fall, see page 4

Voldemort's return, see page 5

Muggleborn Home memorial service, see page 8

Riddle's Special Award to be retracted?, see page 5  
  
---  
  
 

The next day, Harry scarfed down a small breakfast as he read the paper. He still wasn't capable of Apparating on a full stomach. There was no sense in wasting perfectly good food.

"It'll have to be a short session, I'm afraid," Sirius apologized. "Dumbledore's called a meeting."

"Oh good."

"I'm curious to hear if there have been any new developments."

"Keep me informed."

"Of course."

Sirius popped over to Malfoy Manor, leaving Harry and Mr. Malfoy in the drawing room.

Harry closed his eyes and thought about the seal, picturing every detail of it in his mind. He thought about Sirius standing there waiting for him and how much he wanted to be with Sirius, to stand next to him. He turned on the spot and Disapparated.

He stumbled heavily as he landed in the foyer. Sirius caught him and held him up.

"Easy, kiddo. You did it. No missing bits?"

"I feel fine," Harry said breathlessly. He couldn't stop grinning with exhilaration.

"Well done. Feel like going back?"

"In a minute. I think I might need a drink of water. Dobby!"

The house elf appeared with a soft bang.

"Mister Harry Potter, sir, how may Dobby serve you?"

"I'm very thirsty. Please get me a glass of water."

"Dobby is getting the water!"

The little elf was back in a flash, and the water was so cold that drops formed on the outside of the glass.

"Thanks," Harry said, taking a long swallow.

Dobby's eyes got very wide, and he bowed several times before disappearing.

"Okay," Harry said, summoning his resolve. "I'm ready."

Harry pictured the drawing room, with the fire crackling cheerfully. He thought about the family tree, and how happy he was to be included on it. He turned on the spot and Disapparated.

"Steady, Harry," Mr. Malfoy said, guiding him to a chair. "I didn't expect you back so quickly. Are you all right?"

"Ow, ow, ow!" Harry said, clutching at his left arm. He pulled up his sleeve and saw an ugly red gash.

"This was very close," Mr. Malfoy tutted, casting a Healing Charm. "You pushed yourself too hard."

"I need to learn this."

"Take a rest."

Sirius Apparated into the room. "All right, Harry?"

"I will be. I'm knackered, though."

"You should take a nap and get some rest. I'll be back later."

"Would you bring me back, actually? Draco and I were going to work on our Potions essay."

"Of course. Lucius, we'll see you later."

Harry quickly retrieved his bag and returned to the drawing room. Sirius held out his hand, and they were away with a flash. Remus appeared a second later.

"Have fun," Harry said.

Sirius chuckled. "You too." He headed for the ballroom.

Harry went upstairs and knocked on Draco's door.

"Ah, Harry, you're here. Good. Maybe you can convince Elan how dumb an idea it is to sneak out today."

"I thought we'd had this discussion."

"Apparently it didn't sink in."

"We talked for two hours."

"I know."

"Elan, it's way too dangerous."

"I need to do this, Harry. I've got to follow my heart. I love Bridget, and I want her to marry me."

"You're really serious, aren't you?"

"As much as I ever have been. I don't know how I'm going to be able to buy a ring, but when I do, I'll ask her that very night. In the meanwhile, I'll see her tonight. Naturally, you'll help Draco cover for me."

With all that Elan had done for Harry in the past, there was only one real answer. Friends and family stuck with each other, even if -- especially if -- one thought they were wrong

"I will. I think it's a bad idea, but I'll help if you're really determined."

"Thanks, Harry. I owe you one."

"I know you do."

The meeting began promptly at seven o'clock. Harry and Draco went in the secret passage to listen in while Elan Disapparated.

"Thank you all for coming on such short notice. I'm sure you all saw the headline of the Prophet this morning."

"Where did this report come from, Dumbledore?" asked Shacklebolt.

"I'm not sure where Rita got her information."

"Is it accurate?"

"So far as I know."

"This is a good thing, isn't it?" asked Tonks. "He'll have a harder time finding recruits if he can't pretend to be a pureblood anymore."

"It is good for the public to know," Dumbledore admitted. "My worry is how Voldemort will react to this revelation."

"That could be rather ugly," she said, her hair fading from pink to brown. "We'd better up the alert level, Kingsley."

"There is some good news," Dumbledore continued. "Lucius Malfoy managed to make contact with one of the Unspeakables and warn them about the potential theft of the prophecy. Even though they have no particular political agenda, the Unspeakables have no desire to see Voldemort win. While any person named in prophecy _is_ normally allowed to retrieve it, his monstrous crimes have put him outside the bounds of even their neutrality. They will be posting guards on the Hall of Prophecy."

"Does this mean we can stop finding excuses to hang around that door?"

"No. Our greatest efforts are not sufficient to protect the prophecy, and we dare not relax a bit."

"Harry!" hissed Draco suddenly. "Isn't that-"

"Percy!"

"When did he join the Order?"

"I have no idea."

"I wonder if Elan knows."

The meeting continued on. It was fairly boring, routine stuff. Shifts of guard duty were reorganized. Order recruitement efforts were on the rise. Kingsley reported that Auror recruits were doing well. While it wasn't quite as dull as a prefect meeting, Harry found his attention wandering. Even before an hour had passed, Draco was pulling Harry away from the peephole.

"We've got to go stand guard for Elan. He said he'd be back about now."

Harry and Draco took up positions on the opposite hallways. The coast was clear. They waited nearly ten minutes.

Elan returned with a slight pop. He quickly stepped off the seal and over to his brother.

"Thanks."

"You owe me. Huge."

"I know. Let's get upstairs."

"Did you have fun?"

"Rather. She was delighted to see me. It was minutes before we came up for air."

"So she doesn't think you want to break up with her."

"Not anymore. She wasn't pleased we had so little time, but she was thankful for what we did have. She's a good woman."

* * *

Harry hadn't spent the full moon with the Marauders since the beginning of October. Three months was a long time, and he couldn't wait to run again. Being able to take his father's place meant more to him than he could ever put into words. His only regret was that they could not run free. They were confined to a small room in the basement of the house using both magic and metal.

It was not just the werewolf and the Animagi who were keeping track of the lunar calendar. Mr. Malfoy raised the subject at dinner that night.

"You all certainly are ravenous. Then again, I suppose it's to be expected. It is the full moon, tonight, is it not?"

"Yes, Lucius, it is."

"Will you three be going down to the basement again?"

"That was the plan," Harry said. "It's been too long.

Mr. Malfoy shook his head. "I don't understand how three animals can be content in that cell."

"It's not easy," Sirius said, and a slow grin began on his face, "but fortunately, an alternative has been suggested."

"Oh yes? What is that?"

"Do you think you could give me some assistance with the Extension Charms? I can't get it to stabilize for some reason."

"Yes, that would most certainly solve your space requirements. I shall see to it after dinner."

"Good. Thank you, Lucius."

"You are welcome. Sirius."

Harry couldn't believe the adults were being so friendly. He'd worked very hard to get them to this point and thought he might burst from sheer satisfaction.

After they'd all finished dessert, everyone headed for the basement kitchen.

Sirius opened the door to the reinforced room and stepped inside. Mr. Malfoy followed him. Harry leaned in to watch. Sirius pointed at the corners.

"You see how the spellform has collapsed?"

"Yes, that's quite strange. Let me try casting the spell myself."

As Mr. Malfoy lifted his wand, Sirius stepped back and out of the way. Then he ducked out of the door entirely and slammed it shut. He activated the locks with a single word of magic.

"Sirius!"

His godfather was laughing uproariously as Mr. Malfoy started shouting from inside the cell.

"Black! This has been very funny. Now open the door and let me out."

"Sorry, Lucius, but this is my house, and I want the free run of it tonight. Call it a moon party, and you can't meet the dress code. Hence, you're going to spend the night in here. You've got your wand. Feel free to conjure yourself anything you need to make yourself comfortable. Send for Kreacher if you get hungry or thirsty."

"Black!"

"Let's go, Harry."

"I can't believe you did that!"

"It was your idea."

"I still don't believe you actually did it."

"It's a great prank. He'll be fine for the night, and we'll get to run around the house like we did before he got here."

After a night of dashing at top speed from one end of the mansion to the other, Chitter, Padfoot, and Moony collapsed in a pile in the middle of the hall on the ground floor. The wolf finally fell asleep once the moon set. His breathing became regular and calm. Chitter and Padfoot stayed awake only long enough to insure that Moony was not going to jump up again. It would have been fine if he did; the wolf could not escape from the house, but there were many breakable things in most rooms. It was nearly noon when Chitter finally opened his eyes again. He was still exhausted, but he felt like he might be able to stand and make his way up to his bedroom.

He changed back into a boy and shook Sirius by the shoulder. "Hey, Padfoot. Wake up. It's time to go to bed."

Sirius' eyes opened slowly. He yawned hugely. "Good morning, Chitter. Give me a moment."

"Sure. I'll go let Mister Malfoy out."

"That might be for the best. I'm sure it will take him a few days to calm down at me."

Harry went down to the locked room in the basement. He tapped his wand against the latch, and the door creaked open.

Mr. Malfoy was inside, sitting at a dark wooden table. He was sipping delicately from a cup of tea, and a half-eaten plate of scones was before him.

"Good morning, Harry. So good to see you."

"Mister Malfoy. Not too worse for wear, I hope?"

"Certainly not."

Mr. Malfoy exited the room and took a seat at the long kitchen table.

"Have you eaten yet?"

"No, sir."

"Would you join me?"

"Thank you, sir. How was your night?"

"Once I was through shouting and cursing your godfather's name, I did my best to try to escape. Whomever designed this cell was quite thorough. That made me start swearing all over again, and when I finally calmed down, I decided I may as well be comfortable. I called for a padded chair and a bottle of Superior Red from the family apothecary. I paid some attention to the accounts and wrote several letters to my suppliers. My business taken care of, I read several hundred pages for pleasure. When I grew tired, I Transfigured the chair into a fine bed and sought my rest. I've slept better, believe me."

"Have you been waiting long?"

"A short time. I turned the bed into this table and chair, called for breakfast, and have been anticipating my release."

"I'm sorry about that, sir. Sirius thought it would be funny."

"I'm sure he did. I am slowly becoming accustomed to his particular brand of humour." 

Mr. Malfoy seemed quite bothered by the small prank.

"I really hope you're not mad. Sirius meant it in good fun."

"I've never much been one for pranks. Father had little use for them. He was a very stern man."

Harry still felt very tired. The combination of little sleep and running around all night left him feeling very wrung out. He did his best to keep up intelligent conversation.

"There wasn't any harm. You didn't lack for anything."

"This is true. I suppose he could have done much worse."

"I asked him not to."

"Then I owe you my thanks."


	18. The Duelling Captain

Security was visible everywhere on Platform 9 & ¾. Aurors were stationed at regular intervals looking very alert with hands on wands. Harry also recognized a few Order members here and there.

"Here we are," Sirius said. "You're sure you'll be okay?"

Sirius and Remus were supposed to join in the security arrangements.

"I'll be fine." Harry hugged Sirius. "I'll miss you. Stay safe."

"I'll miss you too, kiddo. Keep on your studies. Stay out of trouble. Don't let any Death Eaters get you."

"Stay out of trouble? What sort of Marauder are you?"

"I didn't say not to cause any trouble. I said stay out of it. Meaning don't get caught."

"Ah." Harry grinned. "Right-o."

Remus got a hug as well. "Stay safe."

"You too."

"Bye."

The two men headed over to talk to Auror Shacklebolt, who was in charge of the scene.

Harry boarded the train and went all the way to the end compartment. He took out his trunk, reversed the Shrinking Charm, and levitated it up onto the luggage rack.

If he were studying the implementation of Arithmancy, he would have put a selective Locking Hex on the door. It was possible to key the spell to deactivate itself if a Slytherin tried to open it. Another differentiation could limit it to only fifth years. The two in tandem would mean that only his friends could get inside. Alas, such refinement to magic was only learned in sixth year.

Leaving the door closed, Harry made his way back out to the platform. His eyes scoured the crowd anxiously. It was still relatively small but growing, and before too much longer it would be hard to find anyone. He hoped Laine got here soon. He hadn't seen her in over two weeks, and he missed her. Even if he didn't spend every minute with her outside of classes, it was nice to know that she was nearby and that he could see her if he tried. Being separated for the first time since they'd started walking out with each other had given him lonely moments during the holiday and anxious moments now that he was about to be reunited with her.

Suddenly there was a pair of gloved hands covering his eyes. He nearly panicked, but then his nose caught the smell of sandalwood.

"Guess who," said a mischievous voice.

"Father Christmas come to give me a late present?"

"Nope. Guess again."

"The Tooth Fairy come to make good on old debts?"

"Nope. Last try!"

"Is it a beautiful Slytherin girl looking for a kiss?"

The hands moved away. Harry turned around and saw Laine's face for a brief second as she wrapped her arms around him and mushed her lips to his.

While Harry could have gone on like that for an hour, all too quickly she broke away. Only then did Harry notice the three other people standing there.

Harry exchanged nods with Lucas. Laine's twin brother was a fairly quiet lad, and Harry intimidated him. He didn't try to, but Lucas was always a little nervous around him. Then he and Laine had started seeing each other, and Harry couldn't remember the last time Lucas had said more than two words to him at a go.

Mr. Slater was of medium height and build, with plain brown hair. His face was quite ordinary, and there was nothing distinguishing about him. He was the sort of person one would meet and then five minutes later wouldn't recall at all. He might have made an excellent spy by virtue of that trait alone. He was a historian, Harry recalled.

As much as her husband was unremarkable, Mrs. Slater was striking. She was clearly the source of her daughter's (and son's) good looks. Her magnificent hairstyle could only be accomplished through magic, and her makeup looked not so much applied as it did a part of her skin.

"Mummy, Daddy, I want you to meet my boyfriend, Harry Potter."

Mr. Slater gave him a once-over and stuck out his hand politely. "Good morning. A real pleasure."

"Nice to meet you, sir."

"Good strong grip. I like that. Don't trust a man with limp hands, that's what I always say. You've got to be firm; solid; dependable. Give the right impression right from the start, eh?"

"Absolutely, sir."

Mrs. Slater's examination seemed more critical. Harry was vaguely uncomfortable with her steadily growing expression of disapproval. He didn't understand what she could possibly find wrong with him. He had dressed neatly that morning, put on his best school robes, shined up his prefect badge, and been given the seal of approval from Shoshi herself.

"This is the great Boy-Who-Lived, eh?" she said, clearly not impressed.

Laine flushed a most unflattering red. "Mother, please don't."

"This boy defeated a Dark Lord, and now you're pinning your hopes on him in round two?" She shook her head. "You-Know-Who will wipe the floor, walls, and ceiling with him."

Harry felt his temper start to rise, but he really didn't want to have a confrontation here, on the platform. He especially didn't want to start rowing with Laine's mother on their first meeting.

"I've got some prefect duties to attend to right now. I'll see you on the train, Laine. Bye, Mister and Missus Slater. Nice to meet you."

"Mother! See what you did!" Laine yelled as Harry walked away.

"Can't even handle a mother!" Mrs. Slater called after him. "How are you going to face a Dark Lord?"

"Mothers are worse," he muttered darkly.

Harry went and waited just inside the train car. Laine was visibly out-of-sorts as she said goodbye to her parents. She hugged her father but not her mother. The angry scowl on her face as she approached the train made Harry glad it wasn't directed at him.

"Hi," he said as she stepped on board.

"Harry, I am so sorry about what my mother said. There was no call for it, and I had words with her."

"I certainly wasn't expecting that on our first meeting."

"I can't believe how rude she was. She's not the nicest person in the world, but I've never seen her be so mean to anyone without at least exchanging a few pleasant words first."

"Have I somehow offended her?"

"I don't think so." Laine wrung her hands. "I feel awful about this."

"You didn't say anything nasty."

"But you heard it because I wanted you to meet them."

"Your dad seems nice enough."

"Everyone says that. I don't know anyone who doesn't like him. I think he likes you."

"Well, fifty percent isn't bad."

"Better than zero percent."

"Yeah."

"I'll try to find out what's behind her attitude. Hopefully the next time will be more cordial."

"I can wait a fair amount of time for that."

"Is Easter far enough away?"

"Maybe. Depends how the OWL revision is going."

"Okay. Want to head to the compartment? You claimed one, right?"

"All the way at the end. It's not locked."

"Let's go."

"I actually do have to go patrol a bit," Harry said. He was still upset by Mrs. Slater's hostility. He was no longer in a mood to snog. "Meet you there in a bit?"

"Okay." Laine leaned up and smooched him on the lips. "Bye."

Harry watched her walk away, appreciating the sway of her hips. He almost wanted to follow her and say he'd changed his mind about a snog.

Instead, he began to walk towards the engine car.

The first people Harry saw were the Slytherin Chasers. He spared a few minutes to joke around with them, but they were waiting for their girlfriends, so he moved on. In the next car, the first compartment door was closed, and Harry heard the sounds of arguing.

He knocked. "Everything okay in there?"

"Who wants to know?" came an irate voice from within.

"Prefects."

"Just a little disagreement."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," said a girl. "I was just telling this ignorant lump that he has the romantic capacity of a table lamp."

Harry allowed himself a small smile. "What'd he do?"

"Only forgot my birthday!" she yelled, and Harry could imagine her turning an accusing glare on the boy.

"Well, that was a mistake. Carry on, then."

"Thank you!" she called.

Harry continued down the train car as the girl resumed her tirade.

His next encounter was with Daphne and Astoria. The third year looked like her sister but was not a smaller copy. Her hair was a darker blonde, and her face was a little rounder.

"Hey, Daphne. Good holiday?"

"Lovely. You?"

"Couldn't have been better. It was nice to have the whole family together."

"It's the best part of Christmas," Daphne said with a nod.

"Get any nice presents?"

"I was impressed with yours. The pine scent is brilliant. Where'd you find the recipe?"

"Sirius found me a good book in the family library."

"How about you? Anything noteworthy?"

"Everything was very nice. Hi, Astoria."

"Hi."

"How was your holiday?"

"Good."

Harry glanced at Daphne. "Talkative one, isn't she?"

"You have no idea. I was just waiting with her until her friends show up. Do we have a compartment?"

"All the way at the end. Laine is probably there too."

"Is it going to be another snogging compartment?" Daphne asked with a wink.

"Maybe later. I want to see everyone and catch up."

"What are you doing now?"

"Patrol. Self-appointed."

"Trouble with you and Laine?"

"Trouble with me and Laine's mum."

"What happened?"

Harry shook his head. "I'll tell you later."

"Right-o."

"See you later. Bye, Astoria."

"Bye, Harry."

The rest of his patrol was uneventful. The train wasn't very full yet. Most of the students were still out on the platform. Other prefects were keeping an eye open out there.

He reached the engine car and turned around to head back. He was passing into the second passenger car when Draco came aboard.

"Good morning, mate," Harry said. "We're all the way back."

"Hi, Harry. I just put my trunk back there and walked up the platform."

"Run into anyone interesting?"

"I spent a few minutes chatting up Hannah Abbott. She has very large eyes, don't you think?"

"Yes. She's very pretty."

"I know you were interested in her at one point. You don't mind, do you?"

"Not at all. I never even snogged her. Thought about it a fair amount but never did."

"Oh good."

"I thought you were interested in Ginny."

"Ginny's a challenge. She thinks I'm a prat. I certainly have no idea why. I want to change her perception of me, and thus all the overtures."

"And you think paying attention to another girl will help you in that?"

"Maybe. If she sees me treat Hannah well, hopefully she'll realize I would treat her well."

"Maybe. You know she's not a pureblood. Your father would never approve."

"I'm not saying I intend to marry the girl."

Harry glanced out on to the platform and saw the Weasley family arriving at the last minute. Five redheads were hard to miss. Molly Weasley appeared to be the only parent present, and she was dragging one of the twins by the ear.

"Now I want you all to study very hard. Fred, George, you have the most important exams in only a few months. I know you're not prepared for them. Professor McGonagall has been keeping me apprised of your marks, and I am not impressed. Ron, the OWLs are going to determine what classes you're even allowed to keep taking. You've been doing better this year, but your marks still aren't as good as they could be."

The boys all mumbled and nodded affirmatively.

"Ginny, I wish you would write more. I want to hear about this Lucas fellow who seems so interested in you."

"There's nothing to say, Mum. He's just a boy."

"If you say so, dear.

Mrs. Weasley hugged each of her offspring fiercely.

"Stay safe. Look out for each other."

The Weasley children turned and headed for the train. Ron was headed towards Harry and Draco, even if he didn't know it. Draco pulled out his wand.

"Let's see if we can avoid Weasley just for once," Harry suggested.

"Whatever for?"

"Isn't he ultimately inconsequential to us? He's a right prat, but he's not Voldemort. He's not evil. There's more important stuff to do. We've got harder potions to brew. There's a bloody war on."

"He's a good outlet for my frustrations. You've got to admit, he asks for it."

"That doesn't mean we have to oblige him. You're always saying how his family loves Muggles and Muggleborns. Aren't they logically going to support the Ministry and Dumbledore?"

"The Weasleys have always supported Dumbledore. I wonder why none of them are in the Order, aside from Percy."

"Right. So why are we fighting with someone who should be on the same side as we are? Didn't the Sorting Hat talk about putting aside house divisions and coming together?"

"Didn't you say that was a fat chance?"

"I did. Lately, though, I've been wondering if Hat wasn't on to something. Look at the Ministry Youth. We've got students from all the houses, Weasley included. Yes, we all try to outshine each other, but it's through our competition that we all become stronger. Maybe we really can do this together."

"If you say so."

"I do say so."

"You say what?" asked Daphne, stepping out of a compartment. "I finally got rid of her. Merlin bless her friends with long lives and good marriages."

"Hi, Daphne," Draco said. "You look lovely."

Daphne giggled. "Thank you, Draco. Is Pansy on-board yet?"

"We haven't seen her."

"Then let's head towards the rear. Hopefully we'll bump into her."

Their next encounter was with the team Chasers, who were still waiting for their girlfriends. They were discussing the Christmas massacre.

"He's a maniac," Harry declared flatly, "a hypocritical maniac. Only the most awful creature could murder children. He's got to be stopped, for all our sakes."

"You-Know-Who is so powerful," Montague said. "How can we hope to go against his powers?"

"V-v-voldemort."

Both sixth years flinched.

"By Merlin's beard," Pucey swore. "Greengrass, you said his name."

Warrington couldn't even speak. He stared at his former girlfriend, dumbstruck. A good ten seconds passed before he turned to Harry.

"She said his name."

"I know that, Charles. I'm the one who taught her how to say it."

He turned back to Daphne.

"And you're not afraid to speak it? Knowing what can happen to you?"

"Nothing happens to you, Charles. I've said it about a dozen times, and I'm still breathing."

Pucey whistled in awe. "All right, Potter, I'm convinced. I'll raise my wand with you."

"Me too," Warrington said softly.

Montague nodded several times.

"Thank you," Harry said sincerely.

Harry and his little entourage headed on their way.

Harry poked Daphne on the shoulder.

"Hey! What's that for?"

"Thank you." He reached out and gave her a hug.

Pansy was waiting in the last compartment with Laine pouring over a fashion magazine.

"I just don't like this season's look," Pansy said. "It's so gaudy."

"I know. I think I don't care what the so-called experts say. I'm going to set my own style, and I'm not wearing any of this trash."

"You should see some of the clothes I got for Christmas," Daphne said, joining them. "Actually, I take that back. No one should see those hideous things."

Similarly light topics of conversation were the rule as the Hogwarts Express brought them back to school. Millie and Goyle eventually found the compartment to say hello, but there was no room for them to stay. Five Slytherins was already starting to feel cramped.

"They should have larger compartments than just six seats. People need to be able to move about," Draco complained.

Draco's whinging notwithstanding, they made it to Hogsmeade station in reasonably good health.

Harry and Pansy left to go see to the orderly departure from the train. When all the students had disembarked, the prefects made a final sweep through to make sure no stragglers were still on board. Feeling the pangs of hunger, they hurried to the last carriages and eagerly entered the Great Hall for the Returning feast.

As they moved up the aisle between the Slytherin and Ravenclaw tables, they were dive-bombed by a ball of grey fluff. A second-year girl wearing blue and bronze jumped up in the air trying to grab it.

"What is that thing?" he demanded.

"Supposed to be an owl, but he thinks he's a snitch. Got him for Christmas from my auntie."

"Crazy thing," Harry said as he and Pansy sat down.

"I'm so glad Benson isn't like that. He's much more dignified."

Harry turned to one of the boys who had remained at school.

"Hey, Crabbe. How'd the holiday go?"

"Badly."

"Bad?"

"Miserable."

"What happened?"

"Theo was completely anti-social. He locked himself in the dormitory and didn't eat for days. I had to sleep in the fourth years' dorm. Elves brought me my clothes and stuff."

"He didn't eat at all?"

"Not that I saw."

Harry exchanged a worried look with Draco. Theo wasn't exactly the stoutest of fellows in the best of times. Over their fourth year, he's gotten more and more drawn. This year was even worse, and they sometimes literally had to put food in his hand before he would eat.

"Have you talked to Professor Snape?"

"He hasn't been around much."

Wherever their Head of House had been, nothing was amiss at the high table. Snape even seemed in good spirits -- in a relative sense, of course. He was chatting with Professor Vector, who was favouring him with her pretty smile.

Professor Umbridge wiped her mouth and stood up in front of the hall.

"Hem, hem. Your attention please. Hem, hem. Attention, please. All students who are taking Divination should report to the Arithmancy classroom immediately following dinner. There you will receive details of your new class schedule."

"Professor?" came a voice from the front of the hall.

"Sibyl Trelawney has been determined by the Ministry to be an inadequate teacher. The whole subject of Divination is quite wooly, as you know, and the Ministry has decided that it is not in the best interest of the students to continue teaching it. Students previously enrolled in Divination will now take remedial Arithmancy. Any student who might have been taking Arithmancy already will have special tutoring provided by another professor. I realize that this may disrupt some study plans, but we must correct the deficiencies in our educational system. Please give a warm Hogwarts welcome to Professor Timmons."

There was scattered applause as a woman of medium height rose to her feet and waved to the students with a smile. She had a hint of Far Eastern in her features but otherwise seemed very plain, with unremarkable brown hair that was severely pulled back, making her face seem stretched. She could have been thirty-six or sixty-three.

"Professor Timmons will get you all up to speed with Arithmancy. Fifth years, please don't panic."

Some of them had been doing exactly that.

"The Ministry realizes that one term is hardly sufficient to learn the whole three years of Arithmancy that will be tested on the OWL exam. For this reason, you will be granted a special dispensation by the Ministry to take the exam next year with no penalty. Those of you who feel particularly daring may, of course, attempt this year, also with no penalty.

"Professor Binns will no longer be teaching History. Students will not be able to catch up on their sleeping when they should be learning the great and noble tradition of wizardkind. I'm pleased to announce that a former Hogwarts prefect has agreed to rejoin us. Please welcome Professor Montague."

The oft-voiced idea that Abraham Montague, former Slytherin prefect and voracious student of history, should return to the school had been batted around for so long now that it seemed incongruous to Harry that it was actually happening. It wasn't until he saw the dark-haired man rise to his feet and wave at the students that he belatedly began to applaud as hard as he could. Maybe now he could stop panicking about his History O.W.L..

"That's a bit of luck," Draco said under the applause. "Too bad we don't have History until Tuesday. Where's dessert?"

* * *

Getting back into the swing of classes was easier than Harry expected. With all the reading and essay writing he'd done over the holiday, it wasn't that hard to slip back into an academic mindset. The only real change was that he went to lectures again and had stupid prefect meetings to find excuses to skip.

Harry had grown quite disillusioned with being a prefect.

It had its benefits, such as the swanky bathroom and shiny badge. Being able to give out detentions and take points was rather tally as well. He liked being a prefect, in general and in theory.

Just not in practice.

The constant pointless meetings and long patrols all took valuable time away from his studies. He estimated that if he weren't a prefect, he'd be able to bring up his marks in three classes and get another hour of sleep every night.

It was a very tempting thought.

There was a meeting scheduled for the first Monday back. Umbridge had called it, so Harry felt obliged to attend. She was waiting for them as they filed in.

"Hem, hem. Thank you, prefects, for your continued hard work. You are doing very well, and I have come here tonight because I need your help. No doubt you all heard of the senseless attack against the Home for Magical Children?"

They murmured assent.

"It is only right that we as a school come together to mourn this stolen innocence. I wish to lift the spirits of the student body with a public outpouring of support for the Ministry's war effort. We will gather together and rally."

The other prefects began to buzz with conversation. Umbridge let it go on for a few moments. Harry didn't know if cheering for the war was really the proper way to commemorate a bunch of dead tots, but Umbridge was the Ministry mouthpiece. If that's what she wanted to do, that's what they'd be doing.

"In addition to encouraging words, there should also be some other things to bring us together. Any suggestions?"

Diggory stood up. "We should remember their names. Read them out."

Umbridge nodded and scribbled a note. "Yes, we should. Thank you, Mister Diggory. Another idea?"

Hannah Abbott said, "A few students have lost family members. We should remember them as well."

"How very appropriate. What else?"

"Candles," Padma said. "We should light candles."

"Superb." Umbridge was practically glowing.

Harry raised his hand. "A live band or two. Everyone likes music."

"An excellent idea, Mister Potter. Someone else?"

The prefects looked around at each other.

"No other ideas? Very well. Thank you. Mister Diggory, as Head Boy, I will expect you to give a speech. I'll let you continue your meeting. Good night."

"Good night, Professor Umbridge."

* * *

There was a Ministry Youth meeting scheduled for Tuesday evening. Harry and Laine held hands as they walked with the others up to the Great Hall.

"Hem, hem." Umbridge's quiet throat clearing instantly caused everyone to settle down.

"This is going to be a special treat tonight, my dears. We are very privileged to have with us another one of the Aurors who guards and protects our society from the machinations of You-Know-Who. Would you please give a warm Hogwarts welcome to Auror Tonks?"

Harry and Draco clapped loudly as a young woman in Auror robes stepped into the room. She had bubblegum pink hair that was short and spikey today. She spied Harry and grinned broadly at him. She waved and was so distracted that she managed to trip over the stairs. She tumbled up and landed in a heap at Umbridge's feet.

"Oops," Tonks said. She began to pick herself up.

"Yes, well," Umbridge said, seeming a little flustered. "Welcome, Auror Tonks. Thank you very much for taking time from the good fight to come and speak with us."

"There's to be little speaking and more training," Tonks said briskly. "We all know why we're here. We begin immediately.

Tonks whipped out her wand and pointed it at Umbridge. " _Petrificus totalis!_

Umbridge stiffened up like a statue and fell to the floor with a loud thud. Harry suddenly remembered the story of how Professor Moody had ambushed the N.E.W.T. students last year. He ran to the end of the stage and took cover.

All of the students began to laugh. One didn't expect the Defence teacher to get ambushed.

Tonks leaned over Umbridge.

"The first lesson is this. Constant vigilance! How do you know I'm Auror Tonks? What if I were a Death Eater in a fabulously attractive disguise? The doors would be locked, you'd be helpless, and the students would now be at my mercy."

While she was taunting the Professor, she had her back to Harry. He whispered a Silencing Charm on his feet and crept up the stairs. He crossed quickly and placed his wand at the back of her head.

"Don't move."

Tonks stiffened up. "Is that you, Harry?"

"Maybe. Maybe you're Tonks. Prove it. Do your meta-thingy."

"Good lad," she whispered.

The pink hair changed suddenly to purple, then to black. She turned around, and Harry was face to face with himself.

"How's this?" doppleganger-Harry asked.

"Quite impressive. Now on the night we met, there were two people with me. Which one were you not related to?"

When she morphed into Remus, Harry knew it was her.

"Hi, Tonks."

"Wotcher, Harry." She turned to the students. "As I was saying to Professor Umbridge here, if I'd been a Death Eater in disguise, you'd all be at my mercy. Only Harry was quick-thinking enough to save his own life. The rest of you would be dead."

Tonks removed the Full Body Bind from Professor Umbridge and offered her a hand up. Umbridge declined and stood up looking a bit put out.

"There are a lot of ways to impersonate someone. Polyjuice Potion is the most common. Fortunately, the ingredients for it are rather hard to find. If you can't verify identity with questions, wait an hour and a half for the potion to wear off."

"That's right," Tonks said. "Polyjuice must be taken every hour to maintain the transformation, but I didn't come here to discuss potions. This is a duelling club, right?"

"Right," the students replied.

"Well, let's get some duelling happening. Now, in battle you're not going to be facing just one opponent. Most likely there will be many on both sides. It's not like duelling on a stage. There's going to be a lot of noise, a lot of confusion, and a lot of being scared out of your mind. For now I'm going to have you form teams of five."

Harry, Draco, Millie, Daphne, and Pansy were already standing together.

"Now, you there," Tonks said, pointing at Harry's group. "You and you there will go first. Everyone else, get to the back of the room."

With delight, Harry saw that Tonks had pitted them against a group of Gryffindors that included Ron Weasley.

"Now here are the rules: no lethal spells. That means no Cutting Curses, no Slicing Hexes, or things of that nature. No otherwise illegal spells. No spells that are illegal in other jurisdictions. Other than that, anything goes."

Harry felt his adrenaline beginning to pump. Every time he was about to go into a situation like this, he was strangely eager.

"Take one minute to plan a strategy!"

That was easily thrice as much time as Slytherins needed to beat Gryffindors. The five formed a huddle. Everyone looked to Harry.

"Start with a Stunning Spell and immediately split up. If they start with spells, we'll dodge them, but if they don't start with shields, they'll get hit. Bludgeoners, Blasting Curses, and Banishing Charms. I'll try to transfigure the floor to ice so they lose their footing. We should build some stuff to take cover behind. We should use the stone of the floor."

"I can't do that," Pansy said despairingly. "I'm rubbish at those spells."

"You can shield."

"I'm no good at that either."

"Can you cast some low-powered distraction spells?"

"I think so."

"Then do it. Tickling Charms, Pinching Hexes, and Stinging Hexes."

"Okay."

"Millie and Daphne, you're pretty good at the other spells, so I want you to use them. Two of you cast at the same target while one of you shields. Draco, you're with me. Can we do this?"

"Up Slytherin!"

The initial volley of Stunning Spells took out Colin Creevey, who got hit three times. Weasley, Finnigan, and Thomas were sticking close together, and they parried back the two spells that came their way. Weasley sent a Blasting Curse towards the girls. " _Confringo!_ "

Harry sent a Full-Body Bind at Myles Sheridan " _Petrificus totalis!_ " who dodged and struck back with a Banishing Charm " _Depulso!_ ". Draco and Harry rolled out of the way to the right.

Weasley's group dropped their shields to triple curse the girls with the Binding Hex. Daphne's shield collapsed, and she was struck with a jet of light. Ropes appeared from nowhere to wrap her arms tightly to her sides and her legs together. She lost her balance and toppled over.

Harry cast a shield as Draco threw an Impediment Curse, " _Impedimentia!_ " Sheridan blocked it.

Pansy cast a Tickling Charm at the Gryffindors and was quick enough to hit Thomas, who fell to the ground laughing. Millie risked not raising a shield and cast a Babbling Curse at him.

Weasley cast a volley of arrows. Millie tried to dodge and caught one in the shoulder. She yelled and dropped her wand. She scooped it up in her off-hand but fell to a Body-Bind from Finnigan.

Harry turned the floor under the Gryffindors to ice and raised one edge of it up. Gravity took over and dumped them on their rears. He was about to go to Pansy's aid, but he had to dodge a Jelly-Fingers Jinx. He turned back to give Draco some help with Sheridan.

All on her own, Pansy quickly fell to Finnigan's Binding Curse. Weasley still hadn't gotten to his feet.

Harry Banished Sheridan against the wall, knocking him unconscious. Draco nailed Finnigan with a Stunner.

Harry and Draco were the last two Slytherins standing. Weasley was the only Gryffindor remaining.

"I'll take care of him," Harry said. "You look after the girls."

"No, let's finish him together."

Harry and Draco both sent hexes at Weasley. He cast a Protego Recurve, and the Slytherins had to roll out of the way of their own spells.

Draco cast a shield and stepped in front of Harry, who brought a stone wall into existence. They ran in opposite directions around the wall. Harry raised his own shield as he went.

" _Bombarda!_ "

The stone wall exploded, knocking Harry and Draco to the floor. Harry rolled out of the way of a Stunner and wasn't able to bring his wand into position before he had to avoid a Full-Body Bind.

Weasley seemed almost to be flinging his curses. There was an extra snap to his casting, and Harry could see the anger boiling behind his eyes.

Harry ducked out of the way of the next hex and cast his own right back. Weasley leaned left out of the way and spun around to send a Banisher at Draco, who was just getting to his feet. He wasn't quick enough to dodge, and he went flying back. Harry cast a fresh Protego and quickly ran forward, shoving Weasley to the ground. Weasley yelped and went down, losing hold of his wand.

" _Accio_ wand!"

With Weasley's wand in his hand, the mock battle was over.

"Well done!" Tonks called out. "Drag those others off the field of battle. Next groups!"

As the next fight was waged, Harry and his group recovered off to the side. Harry was flying high from his victory. Next time they would do better. More of his team would not be knocked out.

"At least the team won," Daphne said philosophically. She stretched her arms above her head. "Ow! Those ropes really dug into my skin."

"Next time, move faster."

"I'll try, Harry."

Laine, Ginny, Arcen, Lucas, and Jeremiah managed to beat the group of fourth year Hufflepuffs they went up against. Lucas and Jeremiah were knocked out, but the girls and Arcen managed to persevere.

"Nice job, you three," Harry said as they left the combat field.

"Thanks, Harry," Ginny said, her cheeks flushed. "That was quite exciting."

"It's terrifying," Laine corrected. "I need something to drink."

"I thought it was fun too," Harry said.

Ginny nodded. "It was different. Tonks was right about battle being different from a duel."

"Voldemort wanted to duel, so I think it's still worth learning."

"No doubt, no doubt. It's kind of funny, isn't it? Sodding killer, but he went through the motions of a duel."

"I think he was just playing with me. If he'd just gone for the kill, he would have won."

Ginny shivered. "What an awful thought."

Once the last students had gotten clear, everyone's eyes were on Tonks again.

"Now, wasn't that fun?" she asked brightly. "That was a little taste of what it's like to be in combat. Spells can come flying at you from odd angles. You've got to be ready to deal with anything. I want you all to think about what you've learned and apply it to the next practice you have. I'm afraid I have to go. I'm due to go on duty in an hour."

"We very much appreciate your time, Auror Tonks," Umbridge said. "Don't we, students?"

"Yes, Professor Umbridge. Thank you, Auror Tonks."

"My pleasure," Tonks said. "Bye!"

She waved to Harry and Draco as she left the Great Hall. As soon as she was out of sight, there was a loud crash and a stream of swearwords.

"Stupid suit of armour! Who put that there?"

Harry tried not to laugh, but he couldn't help it. Tonks was definitely Tonks.

For the rest of the meeting, Professor Umbridge kept them fighting in teams. Harry's group went up against some of the Ravenclaws and did quite well. The fourth year Slytherins wiped the floor with the Gryffindors, prompting a lot of dirty looks back and forth.

* * *

"Mister Potter, please remain. The rest of you are dismissed. Enjoy your lunch."

Harry approached Professor Umbridge's desk, wondering what she could possibly want.

"I won't keep you long, Potter. Are you free this evening?"

"Yes, Professor."

"Would you please come by my office after dinner?"

"Am I in trouble, Professor?"

"Certainly not," she said with a titter. "No, I just wish to have a conversation with you where we are not constrained overly by the clock. I'll see you tonight. Now let's get down to lunch."

Despite being intensely curious as to what Professor Umbridge could want to talk about at length, after lunch was the first lesson with Professor Montague, and Harry was far too interested in what topics would be covered. They were in a different classroom than normal.

"Good afternoon."

"Good afternoon, Professor Montague," the Slytherins and Hufflepuffs said in unison. They'd had lots of practice when dealing with Umbridge.

"Today marks a new direction for us all. Professor Binns had a certain style to him that I cannot hope to emulate. As well I should not, considering that's what got him sacked. I had Professor Binns when I was a student, and I promise you, my class is not going to be anything similar. Class participation will be a major portion of your mark. Yes, Mister Malfoy?"

"Without being disrespectful, Professor, isn't our mark this year based entirely on our OWL score?"

"It is. I hope you will not let that fact deter you from taking part in the discussion, because I would hate to dock my old house any points. Rather, I would see you all participate because that will provide an opportunity to earn points. Surely Professor Snape still gives a pop quiz every lesson?"

They nodded.

"That is what we shall do here. Now, our topic is the goblin rebellions. I assure you, this will be asked about on the OWL. To summarize the wizard-goblin relationship over the past thousands of years is difficult. There has always been enmity, but it has ebbed and flowed over time. Things have been particularly peaceful for the past five hundred years with one exception. There were a few riots in the eighteenth century, which we will cover today. There had been frictions brewing for nearly a decade, since the trade dispute of seventeen-forty. Eventually hostilities broke out. Wand legislation was passed, restricting ownership of a wand to humans only. Having always obtained wands from wizards, without any wandmakers of their own, they were unable to fight back with magic. The last of the goblin armies was finally destroyed in seventeen-seventy-six and a treaty forced upon them."

Harry took fevered notes. Professor Montague spoke quickly, and the chalk that was dictating his notes onto the board scribbled furiously to keep up with him. This was loads better than old Binns; Harry didn't think about falling asleep once.

That evening after dinner, Harry and Laine walked together to Umbridge's office. He kissed her and watched her walk away. Only when she was out of sight did he turn to the business at hand.

The door was slightly cracked, so Harry knocked as he opened it.

"Good evening, Professor."

"Come in, Mister Potter. Come in," she said in a syrupy sweet voice. "Do sit down."

Harry tasted bile in the back of his throat. The room was nauseatingly pink. Umbridge was seated behind a desk that was meticulously neat. Not a thing was out of place. Where Lockhart had kept pictures of himself, Umbridge collected china plates with cats on them. Unlike the paintings on Muggle plates, these cats moved and played, though a good few were sleeping.

"Will you take a cup of tea?"

"Thank you, Professor," he said. The guest chair was not cushioned. He hoped she wasn't going to keep him here too long. He accepted the tea cup she passed to him. She poured for herself and raised the cup with one pinky out like the upper crust.

"To the Minister's good health," she toasted.

"Er, yes," Harry replied. "To the Minister."

"How are you, Harry? Do you still enjoy being a prefect?"

"It's a lot more work than I ever realized."

"Which is why only excellent students are usually chosen. The time taken away from study would ruin a lesser student during the OWL year. Are your classes going well?"

"Yes, Professor."

"What is your best subject? Defence, I hope?"

"It always has been," Harry replied.

"I notice you have done quite well at your drills in class," Umbridge said, "and you had quite a good showing at the meeting last night. You seem to have a natural proclivity for fighting the Dark Arts."

"Thank you, Professor."

"Your skills are strong. I have a further role for you to play. Your Ministry needs you. What would you say if I offered to make you Captain of the duelling club?"

Harry didn't bat an eye. "I'd say you'd made a good choice, Professor; however, before I accept, I would like to know what my responsibilities would be."

Umbridge seemed to glow with satisfaction. "To lead, Mister Potter. To help those members who are less skilled than yourself. To keep up the intensity when the Aurors are not running things."

Harry already helped his friends with their wandwork. He'd even managed to teach Pansy a few Charms, and she was rubbish at Charms. If the goal was to train up for the inevitable showdown with Voldemort, Harry could certainly be intense about that.

"I accept."

"Wonderful."

Umbridge reached into the drawer of her desk and took out a small box. She slid it over to Harry, who opened it curiously. Inside was a badge made of gold and silver with a pair of crossed wands on the shield.

"You have free reign, Captain Potter. Help me get these children ready for the struggle we now face."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Captain Potter, you will also have to give a speech at the rally."

Speech? Harry didn't give speeches. How was he supposed to find time to write a speech between all his other commitments? He only had a few days.

Harry made his way down to the dungeons feeling slightly dazed. He wasn't supposed to be a captain until sixth year Quidditch. His new badge was made of gold and silver. Gold. Gold was reserved for the Head Boy and Girl badges. This was going to get noticed.

In the privacy of his bed, Harry called for Sirius on the mirror.

"What's going on, Harry?"

"It's kind of crazy."

"What's happened? Is it good or bad?"

"Good and bad, I suppose. Professor Umbridge just made me Duelling Captain."

"Well done, Harry! Congratulations!"

"I'm supposed to help her run the meetings and show people how to do things."

"It's good that she's trusting you so much. You've planted yourself in firm opposition to Voldemort, so her favour means the Ministry is firmly onboard with the war effort."

"More politics?" Harry asked with distaste.

"Everything is politics."

"That sounds like something a Slytherin would say."

"Slytherins do say it. They say a lot of things. This one happens to be true."

"So I guess I have to take it."

"You don't sound too pleased."

"I was, when I thought it was because I'm the best dueller."

"It would never be that, even in peace time."

"Everything is political."

"Indeed."

"Well, I'm going to enjoy my shiny new badge. It's silver and gold."

"Gold too? She really wants to make a statement, doesn't she?"

"I guess so."

"Just don't let her talk you into doing something too silly in the name of the good fight. Talk to me first, please."

"No problem, Sirius. I won't let her railroad me."

"Any Marauder can outwit a Ministry bureaucrat."

Harry said good night and went out to the common room where he stared at his homework in a daze. 

"What's wrong?" Laine said.

He showed her the badge.

"What an honour!"

"Yeah. I don't know how I'm going to keep up with lessons. She wants me to give a speech."

"A speech? For what?"

"At the memorial service on Saturday."

"I look forward to it."

"I've never given a speech."

"Do you want some help?"

"Yes, thanks."

Laine put her homework to the side and pulled out a fresh piece of parchment.

"Let's get to work."

Harry smiled. How lucky he was to have such a wonderful girlfriend.

* * *

Professor Umbridge stood up at breakfast and called for attention.

"Hem, hem. On Saturday, there will be an assembly in the Great Hall after lunch. Attendance is mandatory. Several entertainers will be performing."

The Great Hall immediately began to buzz with conversation as the students discussed the assembly.

"Assembly?" Draco said, drawling slightly. "Sounds dreadful. Perhaps I'll be able to do a spot of homework. It might be less boring."

"I told Umbridge to get a band or two. I wrote to Edgar and asked him if Wand Smasher is available."

"Are they?"

"Haven't heard yet."

"That wouldn't be too bad, I suppose. Still, it's going to be awfully boring."

"You're telling me. I've got to give a speech."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I'll expect you to applaud."

"You know we will, Harry," Laine said.

"Why do you have to give a speech?" Daphne said.

"I'm Duelling Captain."

"So why not have an exhibition duel?" said Draco.

"There's a thought."

"Can you let us wipe the floor with Weasley?"

"That's a good thought too."

Harry worked out the fine details of his proposal during classes and went to Umbridge's office before lunch.

"Yes?"

"Professor, I've got an idea for the assembly."

"Come in, Mister Potter. Please sit down. May I offer you anything to drink?"

"No, thank you."

"Very well. What is your idea?"

"I know you asked me to give a speech in my capacity as Duelling Captain."

"Indeed. As a leader in the school, your words carry much weight."

"Wouldn't it have more impact if we were to show everyone what we do rather than tell them? We could have an exhibition match."

Umbridge considered the idea, tapping her quill on the inkwell.

"I like it. May I trust you to see to it?"

"Of course."

"Very well. I look forward to it."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Was there anything else?"

"No, ma'am."

"Then you are dismissed."

At lunch, Harry reported his success to Draco, but Millie dominated the conversation with some interesting news from Care of Magical Creatures.

"So get this! Hagrid's on probation!"

"What?" Harry said.

"Yeah. Umbridge came down to the lesson today and gave him the news. He's got until the end of February to show improvement or he's sacked."

"I guess his review didn't go so well."

"Guess not. Maybe we'll get Grubbly-Plank back. She knew what she was doing."

"I hope so, for your sakes."

"For the sake of my OWL result, more like."

The so-called interesting and misunderstood nature of the ferocious and deadly specimens he procured for class notwithstanding, Harry knew Hagrid was a bit of a joke to the students. He knew his subject, but he was a horrible teacher. Every essay came back marked "E-" and never had any comments. There was a rumour that he didn't even read the essays, and Millie had tested it one time by launching into a vigorous argument that Quidditch would be a much more exciting game if the players were all riding thestrals. Harry found himself quite persuaded, but it only earned an E-.

Would Hagrid be the third teacher to go? Harry hoped Hagrid would still be able to stay on as gamekeeper and Keeper of Keys. The big man loved Hogwarts, and it seemed a shame to sack him all together. Professor Umbridge had already cancelled one whole subject and sacked two teachers. Binns still occupied his old classroom, giving his lectures even though nobody was listening aside from a few ghost students. Nobody had seen Trelawney since the end of last term.

Umbridge was definitely shaking things up at Hogwarts. She was altering the curriculum and reshaping the castle culture. The Ministry Youth was very popular, despite being one of the only extracurricular activities now permitted. Everyone enjoyed the chance to cast spells and duel in a sanctioned manner. It was even good for bringing down the number of clashes between students in the hallways between classes. Now the conflicting parties simply settled the score on the field of contest.

Harry was a bit nervous as he walked into his first duelling club meeting as captain. Laine squeezed his hand encouragingly as he climbed up on the stage with Umbridge.

"You'll do fine, Mister Potter," she said brightly. "I have every confidence in you."

That was a hell of a thing to say to someone. "Yes, ma'am."

"Hem, hem. Settle down, please. As you undoubtedly are aware, I have awarded Harry Potter the position of Duelling Captain. He's the best amongst you, and I expect you all to listen when he speaks. The things he tells you could mean the difference between victory or defeat. He has personally fought more against the Dark Arts than the lot of you put together. This fight against the Darkness is his passion. He wants to join the Aurors, and I intend to see that it happens. This leadership role is just the thing to help him get started and let us benefit from his wisdom at the same time. Harry?"

Umbridge began to clap, and some of the students rotely followed suit. Harry felt weird about having people applaud him, but he tried to smile and be genial.

"Hello. Professor Umbridge is right. The Dark times are here again, and we all need to do our part. Our teachers have tried to get us to understand, but we still only truly see when awful things happen. That horrible incident at the Home for Magical Children should turn the stomach of all decent people. Every one of us ought to be angry enough to fight so that doesn't happen again."

The applause started again, a little more enthusiastic this time.

"It's an ugly world we're going into. Let's be ready to deal with it. We'll begin with some target practice."

Harry waved his wand, causing the house tables to break into many pieces. With another wave, each piece transformed into a target.

"Impressive, Mister Potter," Umbridge said approvingly.

"Would you mind making them move around? I can't affect them all at once."

"Certainly."

Umbridge's spell set each target to bouncing gently around in a limited area.

"Pick whatever spell you need to work on and cast as much as you can. We'll change up spells in twenty minutes."

Harry walked up and down the lines with Umbridge, studying each person's casting and offering advice to several more egregious casters. Several times, Harry wanted to say something, but Umbridge kept on moving.

_Didn't she notice Finnigan's elbow sticking out?_

Harry couldn't take it anymore.

"Finnigan, your arm is all wrong. You're not getting a good release because you need to also unbend your elbow in the second sweep. Try it like this."

Harry demonstrated.

"That's what I'm doing."

"No, you're not. Here. Go through it slowly, and I'll show you."

Finnigan went through the movements at half speed.

"Here," Harry said, pushing on the elbow with his fingers. "Right here. You're locking now, but not in the drill. You're trying to cast too quickly. Making sloppy movements doesn't make the magic any better."

Finnigan gave it another go, and his bolt of light hit the third circle, an improvement over the sixth.

"Thanks, Potter."

Umbridge was smiling and nodding approvingly at him. Harry took that as his cue to turn around and go back up the line, pointing out the things he'd let go. Twenty minutes flew by.

Ginny needed a bit of help with her Blasting Curse. He tapped her on the shoulder.

"You're making an extra flick at the end. It'll ruin the spell every time."

"Thanks. I can't seem to stop myself."

He watched her carefully as she tried again.

"You have wonderful taste in jewelry, Harry. Laine showed us all the locket you gave her. It's beautiful."

Harry grinned.

"I'm glad she likes it enough to show it off."

"She even let us try it on. It's really heavy."

"You tried it on?"

"For a little bit. All the girls did except Michelle."

"She didn't want to?"

"Laine wouldn't let her."

Ginny's wand suddenly erupted with the flash of the Blasting Curse. The bolt of light shattered the target.

"Well done, Ginny. Good show."

Harry turned and strode back up the line.

"Good work, everyone. All tired out yet?"

"No!" came the resounding response.

"Good. More drill! Pick a different spell. Twenty more minutes."

After working on the second and then a third spell, the club did start to get fatigued. That was what Harry had been waiting for.

"All right, everyone? Now that you've had a bit of a workout, we're going to start the real part of tonight's activity. Groups of a dozen or so. Teams of two. Spread out and self-regulate a combat. Go."

As the club sorted itself out and began their matches, Harry took a moment to gather his thoughts.

It was clear to him that they needed to prepare both for group combat and individual duels. The group affair could easily wind up as a one-on-one situation.

He decided that each meeting would include groups. The five-on-five that Tonks had used worked well, but he could easily use lesser numbers. More than that was possible, but fundamentally no different. In a battle, one would likely not even be able to keep track of four other people.

_Actually, in combat, you may be with some people you know and some you don't._

"Attention, everyone! You may not always wind up fighting with your best friend. Switch partners! Team with someone from another house!"

Harry hoped that enforced diversity would help build teamwork, coordination, and communications skills.

It was also possible -- in fact, probable -- that one would be outnumbered, so Harry knew he would be setting up some handicapped matches.

_I'll send the three Weasleys up against six upper year Slytherins. They'll be crushed._

Harry let the meeting go on for another hour before he called a halt.

"Good work, everyone. That's enough for tonight. I'll see you all next time. Dismissed."

* * *

**UMBRIDGE APPOINTS POTTER DUELLING CAPTAIN**

by Rita Skeeter

Harry Potter keeps on accumulating titles. He's the Boy Who Lived, the Youngest Seeker In A Century, Youngest Triwizard Winner in History, Hogwarts prefect, and now Duelling Captain. He laughs with a bit of embarasment when he is read the list. 

"I just want to help people. If I can help them get better at casting magic that can potentially save their lives, you bet I'm going to do it."

The Ministry Youth club is helping young duelists hone their skills. Captain Potter was one of the first to sign up when Security Officer Dolores Umbridge established the group. Harry is one of the most skilled members. He's put in a lot of practice just to survive this long in his short life. Now he puts his learning to another good use.

Some of his friends are nearly as talented, and he has harnessed them to help everyone improve faster. "I had help getting as good as I am, and my friends continue to help me as I lead the duelling club. They can run smaller groups when instruction needs to be a little more direct."

Professor Umbridge praised Potter's abilities. "Some people simply have a feel for fighting the Dark Arts. Captain Potter is such a wizard. His drive and determination to stamp out evil is admirable in a man so young. I am proud to help him on his crusade."

Laine Slater (4th Slytherin) had this to say: "Captain Potter really knows what he's talking about. He's helped me learn so much. I think we're all really lucky to have him to show us. The Aurors are too busy to come here all the time, but we've got Harry. It's definitely the next best thing."  
  
---


	19. Speeches and Spirits

"Mister Potter, you will remain. The rest of you are dismissed."

Harry was getting tired of hearing teachers say those words. This time it was Professor McGonagall. This was going to make him late for Astronomy.

He packed his books and exchanged sympathetic looks with all of his friends as they shuffled out of the classroom. When it was only teacher and student, McGonagall sat down at her desk.

"Come here, Mister Potter."

Harry got out of his seat and went to the front. What could he possibly be in trouble for? He hadn't done anything lately. He hadn't had time to do anything. It was only the third day back. Why was he being called out on the carpet?

"Is something the matter, Professor?"

McGonagall didn't answer right away. She had her hands folded in front of her face.

"It is difficult to say these words, Mister Potter. They are of profound seriousness; nevertheless, I cannot ignore my suspicions any longer."

She was really making Harry nervous now.

"Your marks in Transfiguration have improved quite sharply. You made rapid progress all through last year, and now you sit at the top of the entire form."

"Across all houses, ma'am?"

"Yes, Mister Potter, your marks are the best in fifth year. You can perform every task I put in front of you. That cannot be faked. I find this sudden shift disturbing."

Oh Merlin, she was on to his Animagus training!

"Mister Potter, you're not cheating somehow, are you?"

"Cheating!" Harry was aghast. "Professor!"

"It is a question, Mister Potter, nothing more. I have to ask these things. By your reaction, clearly not the case. Very well, if you are not cheating, then are you getting extra tutoring? From whom? None of the upper year Slytherins had such marks."

"Er- Professor," Harry said, trying to think very quickly. "I did a lot of studying to survive the Triwizard Tournament. I learned a lot of spells, and I studied a lot of theory. Transfiguration really helped me. Do you remember that pig I made?"

McGonagall stared at him, her eyes breaking down his feeble protests and diversions.

"Mister Potter, that pig was well above your level, as incomplete as it may have been. I know for a certainty, that if you were to attempt it at this moment, you could do it admirably. Some force has taken action in your education of Transfiguration, and I want to know what."

"As you know, I've been living with my godfather, and-"

"Ah! So that's it." Oh bugger, what had she assumed?

"And he showed me a lot of Transfiguration on summer holiday."

McGonagall cleared her throat. "Oh, I'm quite certain of that."

"And I guess I've just picked it up."

"I'd certainly say so."

Was she buying it? Could Harry get out of this by skinning the edge of but not actually admitting the truth?

"Rules are only good when they make sense, Mister Potter. If a justification for breaking it can be shown, then it should be. With the Dark Lord out there, every skill you have is a weapon against him. Very well. Let's see it, then."

"See what, Professor?"

The look she gave him could have frosted the lake.

"Don't treat me like an imbecile, Potter. Your godfather has trained you to be an Animagus. It's as plain as day, once you mentioned him. I should have figured it out myself. Getting old, I suppose. But now that I have deduced the secret, please do me the courtesy of acknowledging it. Show me your animal form, please."

That steely gaze was both knowing and inexorable. Harry sighed.

_Mongoose!_

Chitter jumped up on the desk and sat back on his hind legs. He chattered at Professor McGonagall and was amazed to see tears welling in her eyes. He leapt to the floor, landed lightly, and resumed his human body.

"Such beautiful symbolism," she murmured. "Perhaps there is hope for us all yet."

"Professor?"

McGonagall cleared her throat. "Fifty points to Slytherin, Mister Potter, for demonstrating true mastery of Transfiguration."

_Points?_ Harry felt very confused.

"Thank you, ma'am."

"You are welcome, but bear in mind that I will now expect only the best from you."

"Yes, ma'am. You're not going to tell the Headmaster, please, ma'am?"

"From one Animagus to another, I will keep it private, but if I should ever judge that he needs to know, I will tell him."

"That's fair enough, Professor."

He wasn't in trouble? Fantastic. Fifty points? Snape had only given him thirty. _Thank you, Professor_ , he thought.

On the way down to the Great Hall after Astronomy, Harry caught sight of Weasley and his little gang headed from Gryffindor tower towards the stairs.

"Oi, Weasley!"

The expression on Weasley's face could have deflected the Killing Curse. Or caused it.

"What do you want, Potter?"

"That's Captain Potter to you, as long as you're in my Duelling Club."

Weasley ground his teeth, but he seemed to remember that Harry was also a prefect and could take points.

"What do you want, Captain Potter?"

"Do you want to take part in an exhibition duel?"

"With you?"

"Don't be so eager. No, with Draco. Each of you will get one partner, which is to remain secret until the match. You'll inform me the morning of the rally, and I'll tell you who Draco picked."

If Weasley couldn't hex Harry, Draco was a good enough second place.

"All right then. Sounds good."

"Good. Get along then."

"Shove it, Potter."

"Captain Potter."

Weasley didn't respond with any polite words.

"You kiss your mother with that mouth, Weasley?"

"Don't you have a go at my mum."

"I would never. I've met your mum. She's quite a sweet lady."

"My mum would never talk to scum like you."

"Your mum happens to like me, Weasley," Harry said smugly. "Despite the stories you exaggerate about, she thinks I'm really nice."

Weasley looked about to explode, but he turned and walked away.

"Bother," Harry said ruefully. "Now I can't take points."

* * *

As they left their last class of the day, they encountered Terry Boot. The Ravenclaw boy looked awful. He had dark bags under his eyes, and his robes were wrinkled.

He held a big bunch of flowers. Harry recognized daisys, pansies, a single purple rose. In his other hand was a red, heart-shaped box tied with gold ribbon.

Pansy took a step forward. The other girls put their heads together and began whispering.

"Terry, what are you doing?"

He dropped to one knee and held up the flowers and chocolate.

"As morning hues of sunswept fire caress your passioned face, alone with thee a pure desire to worship untold grace. My soul would cry in silent prayer to an hour swept apart. Your essence warms the evening air as I dance into your heart."

Harry recognized the poem as being from a Muggle movie, though he couldn't name which one.

Pansy didn't know what to say. Harry had almost never seen her at a loss for words.

"Terry-"

"Pansy, I've been miserable without you. I can't stop thinking about you. Take me back."

Pansy sighed. "Terry, don't be tiresome. We broke up nearly a month ago."

"I know. It's been a month of agony for me. Each day has been full of emptiness."

"See, this is being tiresome. Why didn't you send me any letters over Christmas? Why have you waited until now to bare your wounded soul? I had no idea you were still pining after me."

"So you'll take me back?"

She laughed lightly. "Oh, certainly not. I had very specific reasons for dropping you, and those have not changed."

"You're cruel, Pansy. I'm dying without you."

"Then die," she said heartlessly. "I don't like you in that way, Terry. All of the begging and pleading in the world will not change that. You're not good enough for me. You're a boy. I want a man."

Terry's face grew more and more despairing.

"Pansy-"

"Go away, Terry."

He got back to his feet and turned around. He walked away slowly, looking back only once. His eyes filled with tears, and he ran.

Harry really felt for Terry. If he'd been in his shoes and a girl had said that to him, he'd be a wreck too. It was like how Jamie Davis had moped when separated from and then broken up with Elan Malfoy, and how Tracy had moped around about Harry himself for a time.

Things were much better now.

Pansy was giggling with the girls now.

"Sunswept fire? Where did he come up with such a thing?"

Terry's display quickly spead on the Hogwarts grapevine. By the end of lunch, nearly everyone had heard about it. The subject of the gossip was smart enough to not be present for the mockery that went on. He was also likely the only one who'd managed to get out of the assembly. Nobody was allowed to leave after lunch, so one would be there unless one was willing to go hungry \-- such as a boy who'd told a girl he liked her and now looked like an idiot.

The High Table was moved down from the raised section. A simple podium was draped in black cloth. Harry sat towards the near end of the house table. Several witches and wizards wearing fine black robes and coloured sashes were also present, including Mister Malfoy. Harry had seen the governors a few times before, but he didn't know any of them.

Professor Umbridge stood up and went to the podium.

"Hem, hem. Thank you all for coming. I also want to thank the governors for convening so quickly. As you all know, the sacredness of the Christmas holiday was defiled by a cowardly atrocity. The Death Eaters attacked the Home for Magical Children. They slaughtered mere babes in arms and laughed at how brave they were. We of Hogwarts have come to mourn that loss of magical life. Fourteen children died in the attack. Today we remember Sila. Amanda. Meghan. Poov. Sarah. Anthony. Miles. David. Vishnu. Jason. Francesca. Melissa. Stanley. Lester. Fourteen young Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, Gryffindors, and Slytherins waiting their turn under the Sorting Hat. Now they will never be Sorted. We will never know what talents we have lost. Perhaps we have lost the inventor of the next life-saving potion. Perhaps the Healer who can fully repair spinal injuries. Perhaps, perhaps."

There was barely a dry eye at the teacher's table. Sprout and Flitwick were sobbing into each other's shoulders. Hagrid was bawling great silent tears and blowing his nose loudly into a handkerchief the size of a pillowcase.

"Those who murder children are monsters. Today, we as a community must come together in order to show the country that we will not tolerate monsters. We will hunt them down and destroy them."

Harry clapped loudly. Who wouldn't?

"Your Ministry is working hard to keep us safe, but it's a big job. There is much work to be done. You can help. Let the names of these innocent children be your call to arms. The insanity of the Death Eaters threatens the very existence of magic itself. They will expose our world to the Muggles with their continued attacks. They are actively trying to breach the Statute of Secrecy. Thankfully, the Muggles quite often refuse to believe what they are shown, but sooner or later they will notice. We must prevent it."

Harry again led the applause.

"In this fight, all we have to lose is everything we are. Will we be the sort of people who bow down to a tyrant? Or will we be the sort of people who fight to defend what is decent and true and ours?"

The applause grew a little more. Professor Umbridge turned to Cedric Diggory. "Mister Diggory, you are Head Boy. What do you have to say? What sort of people shall we be?"

Cedric got up to cheers and applause. He went to the podium and stood silently with a sober face until the crowd calmed down.

"I don't know about any of you, but I found all my presents to be rather silly after I heard about what happened. I didn't think anything could sicken me that much without vomiting. I want to stop something like that from ever happening again. I've never really been one for public speeches and words. I wish I knew what to say in times like this. We have lost friends, classmates, and for many of us, family."

Cedric gripped the podium and took a deep breath. "I was an only child until I came to Hogwarts. It was here I found brothers and sisters, people I think of as closer than friends who I met here at Hogwarts. And now some of them are gone."

"I've never been good at words," Cedric repeated, "but I know this is a tragic day, and the only way we can overcome it is to stand together. We have to stand together and show You-Know-Who that if he does a thing like this, he'll meet a unified body against him. Wars should not be fought by killing kids."

Applause started, first by a few and then it seemed like everyone was clapping. "Loyalty is not just a Hufflepuff trait. Loyalty is a trait that we all share!"

Slytherins and Hufflepuffs alike stamped their feet and banged on the wooden tables. "If we are loyal to each other, we can win this war!" Cedric shouted, now barely heard over the roar of the other students.

Cedric's puffiness was getting a bit out of control. For a guy who wasn't good with words, he'd certainly managed to get a response from the crowd. For something billed as a memorial, it sure was loud.

Umbridge was back at the podium.

"Right you are, Mister Diggory! Together we will overcome. We will triumph over tyranny. Isn't that a catchy rhyme?"

"It is, Professor. Boys and girls of Hogwarts, at this time, I would like to introduce our musical guests for the afternoon. Please show your appreciation for Wand Smasher!"

The red curtain flew up with a crash!

Throbbing guitar music and pounding drums erupted in the hall. There weren't any pyromagicks or fancy costumes, but the band was unmistakeable. Edgar stepped forward and began to sing.

The night is dark and full of terrors,  
The Dark Lord bringing back the strife,  
We must be strong and stand together,  
Or risk the perishment of life.

Now Emma and Agatha stepped forward and joined their voices to Edgar's, creating a haunting harmony. Their guitar playing didn't even pause, but Stan's bass got a lot more intricate.

The Darkness calls, the mists arise,  
Collecting souls all through the night,  
Need happy thoughts and a magic spell,  
Silver Patronus to save the light.

Harry thought the music was good. It had good lyrics, good riffs, and good structure, but it didn't really seem appropriate for a memorial to dead children. For the first time he found himself not really enjoying Wand Smasher as they finished up the song.

They played two more songs, the last one a slower ballad that Harry actually did find fitting to the occasion. It was about loss, battle, and death, and he had to wipe at his eyes a few times. He vowed to himself that those babes would be avenged. Voldemort was nothing but a mad dog who needed to be put down.

As the cheers and applause echoed around the Great Hall, Harry tried to swallow his nervousness. His turn to speak was coming up in a moment. His words had escaped from his brain; thank Merlin he had it all written down. His hands were clammy and trembling slightly. A bead of sweat ran down his back.

Umbridge was back at the podium. She didn't look like she appreciated the music. Harry wondered if she'd listened to it at all before getting them to play.

"Thank you, Edgar, for those wonderful songs. The night _is_ full of terrible things. Many citizens have already died in this war. Tonight we also remember Florean Fortescue, Carlene Foye, Benito Schwantes, Neil Noga, Hubert and Katy Sum, Melissa Rabun, Michael and Mallory Tischler, Eleanora Giffen, Clayton Pettengill, Kurt Harres, Tameka Laber, Matthew and Marcia Mahone, Richard Ortego, Nelson and Roslyn Abercrombie, Guy and Julianne Turpin, Maximillian and Hattie Hopkins, and Leonard Troxell."

Umbridge paused and let the weight of the many names settle on the crowd. Those students whose parents had been named were being consoled by their housemates. Lisa Turpin was a wreck.

"Each one of these fine witches and wizards was slain because they did not measure up to the hypocritical ideal of a madman. Their bodies were desecrated and returned to us only in mutilated mockery. We will not be cowed by such inhuman tactics. Our resolve remains firm. We are not afraid of the dark, for we bring our own light."

There was a modest amount of clapping. Umbridge was really worked up, and Harry hoped she'd keep going.

"I would now like to introduce our Duelling Captain, Harry Potter."

The applause was mildly gratifying, but Harry's stomach was still clenched in knots. It was bad enough that he'd had to compete in front of the whole school last year. Now he had to speak and sound intelligent. Laine squeezed his hand, and he bravely got to his feet. Her smile made the rest of the room fade away. Suddenly he felt like he could conquer the world. He stepped up to the podium 

"Thank you, Professor Umbridge. Thank you, Edgar. One more round of applause for Wand Smasher."

Harry led the clapping. He took a deep breath. It was now or never.

"These guys have it exactly right. Voldemort is out there."

There was a ripple across the audience. Harry ignored it. If they weren't used to hearing him say the verboten name by now, they'd be getting a lot more exposure to it as he started drilling the duelling club.

"Voldemort doesn't understand mercy or compassion. He'll kill you just for being in his way. He'll kill us all if he gets the chance. We all have to stand up to him. If we don't, we'll all wind up as dead as those poor kids. The Aurors aren't going to arrive until after you've been attacked. They won't get there in time to save you. It's up to each one of you to be prepared to defend your families. If we all fight back, we can beat him. He remains strong only if we do nothing."

That line drew more applause. The tension in his chest loosened slightly. He let out a slow breath and continued.

"Many of us wish to fight. That's why we joined the Ministry Youth club. If you haven't come by yet, you should. We're learning things that will let us stand toe to toe with Death Eaters. We'll be able to beat them. We'll be able to win."

More applause. Umbridge was beaming at him. He sighed in relief. He was nearly done.

"To give you all an idea of what we do, I've asked several of our members to give an exhibition."

Draco had been the one to suggest the exhibition, so Harry had to allow him to participate. He'd picked Arcen Bulstrode to be his partner. They'd worked together many times before. They'd practised often since learning they would be teaming up. Weasley had asked one of his brothers to stand up with him. Harry wasn't sure if it was Fred or George, but he was sure they'd practised working as a team as well. They'd all prepared for a certain match-up.

They weren't going to get it. 

"Draco Malfoy and Fred Weasley versus Ron Weasley and Arcen Bulstrode."

"What?!" came four outraged voices.

"We've been planning this little duel for a few days now, yes?"

"Yeah."

"You've had time to learn your partner's strengths and weaknesses? You have a plan of how this duel is going to go? Well, let me tell you, no duel goes according to plan. There's always going to be a dozen things you didn't figure on. Constant vigilance!"

The students chuckled a bit.

"Get on with it."

Ron shot death glares across the stage as Fred and Arcen switched sides.

"Begin!"

Fred and Draco may not have worked together before, but they showed no hesitation about mixing it up immediately. Ron and Arcen found themselves on the defensive. They couldn't seem to agree on who would shield and who would attack. Both cast a Protego, and Fred and Draco took the chance to split up and attack from different angles.

Stunners and Body-Binds flew fast and furious. Harry could barely even follow the action. After a few moments, the smoke cleared.

Draco and Fred stood triumphant while Ron and Arcen writhed on the floor in their bonds. Their wands were just out of reach on the floor.

The crowd applauded. The victors released the losers, and they all returned to their seats. Draco looked exceedingly pleased with himself.

Umbridge was back at the podium.

"That was a wonderful demonstration, boys. I would like at this time to introduce Mister Lucius Malfoy, one of our school governors."

Mr. Malfoy looked in the prime of health. He seemed fitter than Harry remembered. He no longer had the haggard look that he'd developed since the start of the war. Harry wondered if there was a bit of magic involved.

"Well done, Draco. I'm very proud of you."

Draco's chin came up slightly.

"Good evening, Hogwarts. I wish I were addressing you all under happier circumstances. I join my thoughts to yours as we mourn the loss of life. To have such senseless carnage visited upon us on Christmas, of all days, when families are gathered together," he broke off. "This is what the word tragic was invented to describe. There is no reason, no justification that can be given. Neither is there a political ideology that can excuse this lawless barbarism.

"I have spoken many times about the need to keep wizarding society separated from the Muggles. I have myriad arguments, but today I wish only to bring up one. Muggles are violent and uncivilized."

A shocked murmur rippled through the crowd. Several of the Muggleborns looked outraged.

"I know some of you here in this room are Muggleborn. I know that my words offend you. I hope the words of your history text do not also offend you. Muggles _are_ violent. This is not in dispute. You are born with magic, and that magic has burned away your Muggle flaws. I welcome you to our world, because you do not belong to theirs. You could no more live among them and do without magic than you could do without your right arm. Muggleborns, tell me, the summer restriction against magic, it is ornerous, is it not?"

"Yeah," a few people said.

"Knowing what you can do with a thought, a swish, and a flick, yet never daring to, lest you be seen by a Muggle? It's bad enough for the summer. Imagine living like that day in and day out for the rest of your lives. One would go mad. Better to be in our world, where you belong."

Harry clapped his hands together, and the crowd followed the Slytherins.

"The Dark Lord thinks you don't belong. He thinks that you all deserve to die for the simple reason that you were born special to those who were not. He is wrong. He himself is nothing more than the unnatural product of Muggle and witch. What the Dark Lord's attack shows us is that he is no better than the Muggles he claims to hate."

Gasps came from all over the crowd.

Mr. Malfoy dropped his voice to a whisper.

"If you truly burn at the thought of what was done to the Muggleborn children in that orphanage, then the Ministry needs you."

There was more applause. He continued, his voice growing stronger.

"We cannot continue to live with the sword of Damocles hanging over us. If we would be free of his threat, the Dark Lord must be confronted and destroyed. His followers must be arrested or killed. The Ministry can't do it alone. They need your help. Our fine professors will prepare you. There is a job for you to do. One way or another, we will stop Voldemort!"

The crowd, which had been building up intensity was suddenly shocked into silence.

Mr. Malfoy looked out at them commandingly.

"Yes, I said his name. I say it without fear. I say his real name, Tom Riddle. He is a powerful, brutal wizard, but that is all. He is only human. We can beat a human."

Mr. Malfoy stepped back from the podium and returned to his chair. Professor Umbridge looked pale as a ghost as she continued the rally.

"Thank you, Mister Malfoy." She shivered visibly. "Headmaster? It is your turn."

"Thank you, Professor Umbridge."

Dumbledore had often this year seemed weary, as though he felt the full weight of his hundred-fifty years. Other times he had the sense of power and strength about him. Tonight was one of those nights.

"We have heard a great deal tonight about the need to support the Ministry," he said, his tone not necessarily approving, "but on a day like today, I ask you to embrace the silence."

The students were used to Dumbledore not making sense. They were here to rally against the Darkness. How could they do that and maintain silence?

Dumbledore paused for a moment, looking around the Hall.

"When Lord Voldemort fell those many years ago, there was unchecked jubilation. The worst fears of each of us evaporated in an instant, and in our haste, we believed that our best hopes would replace them. So we dreamed and failed to guard.

"The dream ended. In that instant we awoke, there was silence. We looked to each other, without direction and in fear. In note of wasted time and voice, we went mad together, and have again forgotten ourselves.

"Again, there is silence today, born of shock. It will last only for a moment. We will soon begin to speak loudly, overlapping and never listening. Will we choose easily and allow our souls to atrophy to spare others from our next mistake?

"We ask how children could suffer but not why they were there in the first place. We ask how to stop the next attack but not why we are worthy of being saved. We doubt each other but forget we were never deceived.

"Speak as one, together, unchecked, with memory. Do not grieve for those who die. Grieve those who live, ripped from the arms of parents, and realize that you are as blind as they are.

"Stay awake."

Harry wanted to be inspired by Dumbledore's words. The trouble was that he thought the old man incredibly naive. The Home for Magical Children was the best thing for Muggleborns. It got them away from the Muggles, who could never understand their magic. The actions of a madman did not negate this positive thing.

"Thank you, Professor Dumbledore. We've reached the end of our gathering today. I hope you will all reflect on what you have heard tonight. Decide what sort of a world you want to live in. Take action so as to bring it to pass."

A murmur rolled through the crowd.

"Dismissed."

* * *

With all that had gone on that weekend, Harry nearly forgot about his Occlumency lesson. He'd been clearing his mind every night before bed, but not as long as Professor Snape had told him to do. He had been taking quick moments through the days, and that helped his focus on schoolwork. He hadn't done very much of the meditations over the holiday, though, so Snape might not be too happy with him. He closed his Herbology notes early and took fifteen minutes in the solitude of his bed to clear his mind before heading to Snape's office.

"Good evening, sir."

"Good evening, Mister Potter. Welcome back from the holiday."

"Thank you, sir. Was yours a happy one?"

"As much as ever."

"Did you get coal from Father Christmas?"

"A few students make it a point to send me some every year. I find it of great use in preparing certain potions that require charcoal filtration."

Trust Snape to make the best of any situation.

"Brilliant, sir."

"Did you enjoy your visit home?"

"Oh, yes, sir. It was incredible. Sirius and Remus had the place all decorated. All of the Malfoys were there, and the Tonks family, too."

Snape quirked one eyebrow. "A family reunion?"

"Quite. It was pretty emotional."

"I imagine so," Snape said quietly. "I'm sure I'll be seeing it in your mind tonight."

"Probably, sir," Harry replied ruefully. "I'm thrilled to see them all talking instead of shouting."

"Rightly so. I am pleased for you, Mister Potter. Though not all receive it, every child ought have a happy family to love and nurture them."

"Yes, sir."

"Shall we begin?"

Harry braced himself and tried to detach from his memories.

" _Legilimens!_ "

Harry could feel Snape pressing at the edges of his mind. Harry immediately pushed back, forcing the other presence away. Snape pulled back and tried a different angle. Harry blocked that too. He hadn't had any luck stopping Snape's assault, so he was determined to prevent it from even starting.

The next thing Harry felt had the feel of a hammerblow to the face. There was no tentative probe to warn him. Snape just attacked with the full force of his mind. Harry's defences crumpled under the onslaught, and images began to flicker through his head.

He fell back, waving his wand and casting the first spell that came to mind. Snape stood there with cords of twine pinning his arms to his sides. The look on his face was absolutely murderous.

"Mister Potter," was all he said.

"Sorry, sir," Harry said, hurriedly cancelling the spell.

"Let us go again."

* * *

On Monday, Professor Umbridge stood up at breakfast and called for attention.

"Hem, hem. To follow up on the great success of the memorial rally, I know a lot of you are looking for some way to get into the fight. Joining the Ministry Youth is one thing you can do to prepare. I would like to tell you now about another. At the end of the year, after the OWLs and NEWTs, there will be a grand duelling tournament. Single elimination, the ultimate winner will receive a fantastic prize, to be determined later."

The Great Hall began to buzz with excitement.

"If you are interested in signing up, please see Captain Potter."

Harry started. Why hadn't she informed him beforehand?

"Further details will be made available later in the term. Dismissed."

Harry picked up his bag and headed towards Defence class.

"A tourney, eh?" said Blaise. "Sounds fun. I bet I could do quite well."

"I think it's a smashing idea," Draco opined. "We're going to be in great shape to win. Look at all the help we've given Harry, and he's the captain because of how good he is. We're naturally inclined to triumph."

"I don't know, Draco," Millie said cautiously. "I know the seventh years have been putting in a lot of hours to cope with her ridiculous course. I think we might have some stiff competition. As much as I hate to say it, look at Weasley. He's gotten fairly competent as of late."

"I will not lose to Weasley in another contest," Draco practically snarled. "I don't care what I have to do. He will not win."

"I wonder what the prize is," Tracy said. "Harry, any hints?"

"This is the first I've heard of it."

"What sort of captain are you?" Blaise said.

"Blaise, you should join the duelling club."

"I've got to study. I'm still not used to thinking in English again. I've been studying in French for the past four years. It slows me down."

"You ought to put a bit more effort into trying to be one of the group," Pansy said. "You wonder why we don't seem to accept you, right? Maybe if we thought you were one of us."

"I have tried. You lot are all a bunch of snobs."

"So are you, you git," Draco said. "You think you're too good for us."

Professor Umbridge arrived promptly and took the roll.

"Hem, hem. Good morning, Slytherin."

"Good morning, Professor Umbridge."

"How many of you plan to enter the duelling tournament?"

The boys less Theo all raised their hands, joined by Millie.

"Come, come, ladies," Umbridge chided. "Surely you're not worried about breaking a nail. Why aren't you entering, Miss Parkinson?"

"I'm not all that good with Charms and so on. Professor Flitwick called me dangerous last year."

Umbridge looked shocked. "That is certainly unprofessional of him. You're just a bit wild, dear. You need to learn control."

"I'm trying, Professor."

"Miss Greengrass?"

"I hadn't made a decision just yet, Professor. I'm still considering it."

"That is wise. Careful thought should be given to every decision one makes. Five points to Slytherin."

"Thank you, Professor."

"Miss Davis?"

"I'm not going to have time to give the tourney the full atttention it would take to win. I just don't have that much time to train. If it weren't OWL year, I might consider it, but I've ruled out giving a half-hearted attempt, going in unprepared, and possibly getting hurt."

"Another excellent reason. One cannot do everything, though one might wish to. We must all establish our priorities. Schoolwork should most assuredly come first. Another five points."

"Thank you, Professor."

"Mister Nott, why will you not be entering the tourney?"

Theo hadn't been called on in any other class. All the professors seemed to know what had transpired and were respectfully not putting undue pressure on him. Professor Umbridge had honoured that unspoken agreement in the first term.

Not anymore.

The look Theo gave Umbridge was blacker than Harry's hair. Harry was surprised Umbridge didn't turn to stone or catch fire or start melting on the spot.

Long moments of silence were filled with awkwardness. She seemed expectant of an answer.

"Well, Mister Nott?"

Theo did not speak, but he stood up, leaving his bag, and walked to the door.

"Mister Nott, you come back here at once."

Theo ignored her and left.

"Detention, Mister Nott, and twenty points from Slytherin. You will return now."

Yet he did not.

Umbridge turned back to the rest of them with an angry huff.

"If today's material is on the OWL, he will regret skipping. If you all will open your books to where we left off, we will continue."

Harry earned points for Slytherin when he was able to demonstrate the Stunning Charm correctly.

"Think Theo's going to make it to class?" Harry asked Draco when Umbridge let them go.

"Who knows? Half the time I'm right, and the other half I'm wrong. I've given up trying to guess how he'll react."

Harry wanted to keep talking about Theo, but they were interrupted.

"Well done on the Stunner, Potter," Blaise said. "Think you could show me that?"

"Sure."

"Great."

"Come to duelling club."

"I'll consider it, Hair."

"Your loss, frog."

Blaise got irritated then and kept quiet for the rest of the walk down to the Potions dungeon, where the Gryffindors were already waiting. Professor Snape had not yet arrived, but they wasted no time in getting set up for the brewing session.

"Hey, Captain," Weasley said, drawing out the title insultingly.

"Detention, Weasley."

"Detention? For what?"

"You're out of uniform. Where's your hat?"

"I left it at home on accident."

"Better get your mum to owl it to you, because I'll give you detention every day I see you out of uniform."

"You're a menace, Potter. The slightest bit of power, and you go mad. All you Slytherins are exactly alike."

"And all you Gryffindors are exactly alike," he retorted. "Leap to wild conclusions, charge in head-first, make an arse of yourself, and never learn from your mistakes. Stop me if I get it wrong."

Weasly's reply was interrupted by the return of Professor Snape to the classroom and the bell. He glared foully at Harry and turned his attention to the lecture.

Harry always enjoyed double Potions, but today's attempt at the Invigoration Draught was not his best. He was distracted by thoughts of the duelling tourney. He realized he needed to start the sign-up list as soon as possible, otherwise people were going to hound him.

Lunch with Laine was always a nice break in the middle of his day, and Harry listened to her rave about Flitwick's lesson. Harry lost track of what she was saying, just watching her. Finally she noticed his noncommittal responses and mild staring.

"What is it?"

"You look beautiful."

She smiled, and it was like the sun had come out.

"Think we could spend some time together tonight?"

"I've got to patrol."

"Oh drat."

Harry thought very fast. "Want to patrol with me?"

"Can we do that? Won't I get in trouble?"

"Probably. Well, maybe we could have a few moments before my patrol."

"Looks like that's all I get this week. I'll have to make it count."

Harry blushed.

Harry had never enjoyed Transfiguration less now that Professor McGonagall knew about his Animagus form. She called on him to do all the demonstrations. He earned a load of points for it, but he did get tired of it after awhile. He was starting to get a reputation for being her favourite student.

Professor Sprout spent her whole lesson revising for the OWL, and they had to replant Mandrakes.

"I raise a crop every couple of years. With the war on, they might come in very handy."

Covered in dirt and smelling of dragon dung fertilizer, they retired to the dormitories to bathe.

By the time they were clean and dressed, it was time to head up to Great Hall for dinner. Harry was famished and took lots of everything. He studied in the common room after, and Laine sat beside him, working on her own assignments. She asked him the occasional question about the material, which he was happy to answer.

He finally put his books away and left for his patrol a bit early. Laine went with him, and they ducked into a broom cupboard on the ground floor for a snog.

Harry was stroking his thumbs on her hips. He dared to slip his fingers under the hem of her shirt. Her skin was warm. He was suddenly conscious of his clammy hands. He wanted to wipe them on his trousers, but he was afraid to give up the progress he'd made.

Her hands tightened on the front of his robes. He slid his hands up, running his fingertips up her spine. He could feel her ribs with his arms, and she squirmed away from him with a giggle.

"That tickles."

"Sorry."

"No more with the hands."

"Sure." He stopped and pulled his hands back.

She pulled his head down and blew gently in his ear. "You don't have to stop, but keep them where they are."

He grinned and quickly put his hands on her again.

"That's nice."

The bell announced curfew, and she made an unhappy, disappointed noise. "Stupid curfew."

They parted with one lingering smooch, and Harry felt hypnotized as she walked away.

Harry began his patrol in a very distracted state of mind. He was nearly done with the ground floor when Filch jumped out of a secret passage.

"What are you about, Potter?"

"I've got every right to be patrolling the corridors, Mister Filch. I'm a prefect."

"It's not your night. I've a copy of the schedule."

"I am also the Duelling Captain. I have a responsibility to help protect the students."

"Now yer just making excuses."

"My authority comes from Security Officer Umbridge. Perhaps you would like to discuss it with her?"

Filch grumbled in the negative.

"I've instructed all the prefects to take the next slot in the rotation in case anyone gets a copy of the schedule. Now if they expect to find little Padma Patil, they'll find burly Roger Davies. Constant vigilance."

When Harry had finished his patrol, he headed for the fifth floor and the prefect's bathroom. He was determined to take advantage of all his privileges if he had to fulfill all of his myriad responsibilities.

Harry bumped into Hannah Abbott as she was walking out the door. She wore one of the great, fluffy, yellow bathrobes and had a towel on her head. Harry admired her smooth legs for a moment before noticing how the bathrobe showed off her curves.

"Hi, Harry."

"Hi, Hannah."

"Good patrol?"

"Yeah. Quiet. Just going to have a bath and head to bed."

"Yeah, me too. I was just having a bath and getting a few laps in. I always try to at least twice a week to stay in good form. I'm off to bed now too."

"Don't let me keep you."

"No, that's okay. How've you been?"

"Things are good. Everything is good. You?"

"Good. Really good. I'm working really hard to get ready for the OWLs, which is of course obvious. I'm busy with prefect stuff and duelling club, which you know. Nothing really exciting. I find sleeping to be incredibly enjoyable as of late."

"Same here. I'm not going to get enough tonight."

"Well, I'll let you bathe. Good night."

"Good night."

Harry watched her walk out of sight before he went into the prefects' bathroom. He wasn't alone. Several other lads were also present. He nodded to them in greeting as he fetched his towel and claimed a spot near the deep end.

"Hey, Potter."

"Hey, Longbottom."

"What's up?"

"Not much. Just ran into Hannah Abbott on her way from here."

"Hannah?"

"You talk to her much?"

"N-no."

"You should. She's got very nice legs. "

"Does she?"

"You like legs, Neville?"

"Definitely. You?"

"Honestly, I like all the bits."

"That's a good way to look at it too. Hannah's pretty well put together."

"Yes, she is."

They lapsed into silence.

Neville spoke first. "Nice exhibition the other day."

"Thanks."

"I hope I can be that good someday."

"Keep at it. You're doing better."

"Sometimes I know I'm doing everything exactly right, but it still doesn't work the way it should."

"I've seen that. Your wand just doesn't seem to want to cooperate."

"Well, strictly speaking, this isn't mine."

"No?"

"It used to belong to my father."

Neville didn't sound ashamed or embarrased. Harry noticed that his chin came up slightly, though his eyes were downcast.

"That's really cool," Harry said. He suddenly wondered what had happened to his own parents' wands. Perhaps Sirius could find out.

Neville looked at Harry sharply, perhaps wondering if Harry were mocking him. Harry nodded.

"You must be honoured to carry it."

Neville paused just a moment before saying softly, "Yeah, I am."

Harry heard something in the other boy's voice. "But?"

Neville quailed a bit. "But it doesn't like me."

"What?"

"It's just a feeling I get sometimes. I can be doing a spell perfectly correct, and it just doesn't want to work for me."

"Have you tried other wands?"

"No. My Gran wouldn't hear of it. I tried to tell her during first year, but she told me to stop complaining and stop shaming my legacy."

"I had to try dozens of wands before I found this one," Harry said, showing it off proudly. "Mister Ollivander was delighted with me."

"I never met him. Heard a lot about him though."

"I think you should get a wand that suits you, Longbottom. It would probably help a great deal."

"Gran won't allow it. She'll never give me the money for it."

"Then let the Ministry pay for it."

"The Ministry? How?"

"You're a prefect, right? Doesn't Umbridge give out a sack of Galleons to spend on Hogsmeade weekends? Take ten for yourself and next visit to Diagon Alley, go and take care of it."

"That's a pretty clever idea, Potter. How will I hide it from Gran though?"

"You don't have to stop carrying your dad's. Just carry the other one too, in case of trouble. Here at school you can put his wand in a nice box or something to preserve it. You'll do better in your classes with your own wand, your Gran will be happy, and then you can tell her about the other wand. She'll see then that your dad's isn't right for you, and you can display it at home with honour."

"Nice plan. You just come up with that now?"

"It's a Slytherin thing."

"Thanks."

"No problem. You're a member of my duelling club. I need you at your best. I bet if you get a suitable wand, you'd be one of the best."

Neville shook his head. "We'll see, Potter. We'll see. You've probably got a point, though. Ron got a new wand this year, and look how well he's been doing."


	20. The Things Harry Has Done

One week into February, Harry was sitting at his desk writing out a particularly long essay for Professor Sprout that was overdue when he heard Sirius calling for him through the magic mirror.

"Harry Potter!"

Harry hopped onto his bed and drew the curtains shut. He activated the Silencing Charms and pulled the mirror off of his headboard.

"Sirius Black!"

"How are you doing, kiddo?"

"I'm holding up. I've got a bit of Herbology to get on. Had to let it slide because Flitwick is being a right menace this week. Plus I had to skip a prefect meeting in order to work on my Arithmancy assignment because I did the wrong section. I'm swamped."

"Are you sleeping enough?"

"Not as much as I'd like. I still get about six most nights."

"You need to get more than that."

"I'm trying, Sirius. The work has to get done. They say it gets worse."

"It does. You've got Quidditch, prefecture, and now duelling club responsibilities. That's in addition to preparing for the OWLs. That's too much for any one person to handle. Something's got to give."

"I'll be okay. I just need to organize my time more efficiently. The problem is that I'm not the one doing most of the scheduling. Next year will be better. I'll be captain of the Quidditch team, so I can directly coordinate it with the duelling club. Depending on who the Head Boy is, I might have input for the prefect meetings too."

"If it gets to be too much, you know what you need to do."

"It'll be hard to choose between them."

"Yes, it will."

"I guess it would be the prefecture. The meetings are tremendously boring, even if it is held in very high prestige. I've only been up to the prefects' bath twice, did you know? It's on the fifth floor! Bloody discrimination against Slytherins and Hufflepuffs."

"Isn't the Slytherin bathroom the next nicest?"

"It is, but it still doesn't hold a candle to that place. I still can't believe the indoor swimming pool."

"Moony let us in there quite a few times while we were at school. One time we charmed the taps."

Harry grinned. "What sorts of things came out?"

"We went for a dessert theme. There was chocolate syrup, honey, caramel, butterscotch, hot fudge, whipped cream, cherry sauce, strawberry, blueberry, maple syrup, and I don't even remember what else."

"That must've been interesting."

"I never saw anything like it. The entire prefect council spent the entire weekend trying to break the spells that keep wizards and witches from co-mingling."

Harry snickered. "Sounds fun. My teeth are aching just thinking about it. Did they succeed?"

"Sadly no, but the Slytherin team challenged the Gryffindor team to a scrimmage match, no Snitch, first to a hundred points, with the stakes being that the losers got tossed in by the winners."

"Who won?"

"Gryffindor, naturally. It was close, I'll admit, but Potter and Black were too strong an attack for them to hold back."

"I wish I could see it. The match, not the punishment."

"You just may be able to. I got a package today. My new pensieve is here."

"Tally. I'm sure there'll be a Hogsmeade weekend soon enough."

Harry had talked to Sirius about most of the awful things he'd gone through in his short life. Now he'd finally be able to show Sirius his trials. They were going to be examining his actions to see what might be improved upon or used again in the future. Harry was reminded of Muggle sports teams and how they would review their past matches.

"Anything else exciting in the world? How's Remus?"

"He's well. He left a couple of days ago on a mission."

"What sort of mission?"

"Nothing to worry about. He'll be back before we know it."

"I hope so. Has he been bringing Tonks around at least?"

"A few times. I'm quite impressed with my cousin. I think Remus made a great choice."

"I think she made the great choice."

"That goes without saying. Any girl would be fantastically lucky to have one of the Marauders."

"Git," Harry said fondly.

"Thank you. That means a lot coming from you."

"I've got to go, Sirius. I don't want to, but I've got homework."

"Don't fall behind."

"Too late. I'm trying to catch up."

"Good luck."

"Thanks, Sirius. Good night."

"Good night, Harry."

* * *

Harry had caught up in Herbology but fallen behind in Transfiguration. He didn't worry so much about that, because Harry could _do_ the magic, just not explain it. His last essay for McGonagall had been editorialized with red ink in so many places it looked like it had been present at a murder crime scene. She really had raised her standard for him, just like she'd promised. He'd never merited this much interest from her before, and it was slightly disconcerting to have the normally stern Deputy Headmistress acting so encouraging. Normally he just tried to get along as best he could without attracting her notice and wrath.

So it was that on Wednesday, which happened to be St. Valentine's Day, Harry ate a hasty supper and hurried down to the common room where he tried his best to decypher Madam Goshawk's description of Gamp's Ninth Law. As the others returned from the Great Hall, Harry was still no further from grasping it. There were still four more laws to go before the O.W.L., which was only four months away.

Laine sat down beside him and kissed his cheek.

"Hi, Harry."

"Laine, hi."

"How goes the homework?"

"It's strange. I understand McGonagall perfectly when she's telling us what to do and how to cast the spells, but this theory stuff goes way over my head. Can't I just get scored on the practical?"

Laine giggled. "I'm afraid it doesn't work that way. Good thing, too, or I'd be in a little trouble. So it's Valentine's day. What did you get your girlfriend? A box of chocolates? A bunch of flowers?"

"I'm sorry, Laine. I'm still behind, and I didn't even have time to make you a card."

She sighed. "I should eat the Chocolate Frogs I got you myself."

"If you must. Would you like to sit by the fire with me?"

The break from studying would have to be short, but at least they could have a moment or two. 

"Sure you're not too busy studying?" 

Harry winced. Laine sounded very perturbed.

"I'm sure."

"That sounds delightful."

Harry and Laine sat on a couch together. The fire crackled in the fireplace. She snuggled close to him, and he put his arm around her.

"I miss this," she said.

"Me too."

"Just think: next year it'll be me keeping the crazy study schedule. We'll have about as much time together as we do this year."

"It might be better because of improved scheduling."

"Of course, you'll also want to get a leg up on the NEWTs. Seventh year will be like this year, only worse. Then the next year will be me, so realistically, it'll be at least three years we have to cope with the stress of academics before we can be free to spend lots of time together. Somewhere in here is the downfall of V-v-voldemort. With as crazed as they say he is, I think this war is going to be over sooner rather than later. That's obviously very important to prepare for. Then after things all settle down, you expect that there's going to be jobs, social obligations, and so on, and it makes you realize that this brief moment in time here is all we ever have. Moments like this are all that life is. We always have other commitments clammoring for our attention, but we have to remember to take the time to snuggle."

"I agree," he said, nuzzling against her head. "This new thing I've got to do is one more bit out of my schedule," he rued. "I think I might have to give up something. Maybe lunch."

"No, you've got to keep up your strength."

"What good will strength do me without sleep?"

"You need both."

"Right now, what I need to to sit on a couch and snuggle with my girlfriend."

"Well, we'd better get to it."

She didn't move a bit.

"Are we doing it yet?"

"We are."

"Oh good."

Harry smiled. In this pure and simple moment, he was happy.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Laine."

"You too, Harry."

* * *

Two days later, Professor Umbridge called a prefect meeting.

"Hem, hem. Thank you for coming. Tomorrow will be another Hogsmeade visit. The arrangements are to be the same as the last time, only Captain Potter will be selecting a dozen from the Ministry Youth to join you all in patrolling the village. You will be in groups of five, just as we've done in the training. You will have a squad leader, and he or she will pick the target. You will all go after the same target. Even a Death Eater would have trouble dealing with five spells at once. By combining your power, you will be victorious. The Ministry is once again providing a sum of Galleons for you to spend in the shops."

Harry really wished Umbridge had let him know he needed to pick a dozen non-prefects from the ranks of the duelling club. There was nothing for it, though, but to smile confidently and begin scribbling names.

"Do we know how the Death Eaters found out about the last weekend?"

"We believe there was a watcher stationed in the village. The Ministry made a most thorough sweep, but apparently some disloyal citizen accessed the Floo Network. For this visit, Hogsmeade will be disconnected from the Floo. With Anti-Apparition Jinxes in effect, the only possible way in will be via broom, and the Grounding Charm placed by Madam Hooch will draw all brooms down to the ground. There is simply no way for the Death Eaters to get in without being noticed."

"They could Disillusion themselves and simply walk in."

"Hagrid, in his capacity as Keeper of Grounds, has acquired a number of Kneazles. Who can tell me how this is useful? Abbott?"

"Kneazles can sniff out those who are untrustworthy. If the Kneazles start going bananas, we'd know that the Death Eaters were approaching."

"Excellent, my girl. Ten points to Hufflepuff. That is precisely the plan. Now, does anyone have an idea to see the Disillusioned Death Eaters? Goldstein?"

"The Disillusionment Charm may be countered with a Painting Charm. Spray the whole area, and the affected area will be seen easily. From there, the normal reversal will work."

"Right, but yet wrong. Who can tell me why? Longbottom?"

"Once you know where the Death Eater is, don't hesitate. Use your strongest spells. Show no mercy."

"Correct. Ten points to Gryffindor. No mercy to an enemy who will surely give none. You must be quick and effective. Death Eaters won't be amused by Dancing Jinxes."

Professor Umbridge dismissed them, and Harry headed for his dormitory with the intention of catching up on his Astronomy reading. He'd been utterly lost during the last night session.

The fifth years' dorm was empty aside from Theo, who had been wrapped in his shell all year. Though he went to classes, he did his homework separate from the group. He did not visit the common room; most nights he was hunched over his desk, writing. Theo seemed to haunt the place like so many of the castle ghosts. He was there, and yet he was not.

Harry had tried his best to draw Theo out. The silent boy had resisted all attempts at conversation. Privately, publicly, and even in class, he wouldn't respond to anyone. Harry kept trying, hoping that one day he might get lucky.

"Hey, Theo. We were thinking about meeting up for some butterbeer tomorrow. We'd like to see you there."

Theo ignored him.

"We really miss you, mate. Pansy's been absolutely out of control lately. Draco just can't win any arguments with her. You're the only one who was ever able to get one up on her."

Theo's quill kept scratching.

"Er- right. He's been pretty unbearable lately too. Cocky, strutting around because he's real quick on the draw in duelling club, but I think you could take him. Knock him down a few pegs. You're pretty handy with a wand. What do you say?"

Harry might as well have been speaking to an empty room. There was even a slight echo. Silence reigned for several long moments. Harry hesitated, unsure of reaching forward so much, but his friend was in pain. He just _had_ to know that Harry was here to talk to.

"I've never told anyone this before, not even Sirius. When I was seven years old, I broke my cousin's snow globe. He thought it was boring, but it was a Christmas present from Aunt Marge. I didn't even break it, really. I just picked it up from where he'd left it. I shook it a few times and was watching the snow fly all around inside. I wondered if there was a family in that house sitting down to dinner and if they would have room in their hearts for an orphan boy named Harry. Dudley shoved my arm, making me knock myself in the head with the snow globe. I started seeing stars and dropped the thing. It broke, spilling water and glitter everywhere. Aunt Petunia started screaming about her carpet. Aunt Marge started worrying about Ripper and broken glass. Uncle Vernon grabbed me by the arm and hauled me to the door. I was wearing sweatpants, a long-sleeved shirt, and no socks. He threw me out into a snowbank and said he'd let me back in if I stopped being clumsy."

Theo didn't respond.

"The only way I survived was to dig out a space under the snow. It was very cold. I was soaked through. I got very sleepy and almost passed out, but it got better. I started to warm up. I even dried out a bit. I stayed in my little igloo shelter all night. The next morning when Aunt Marge left, I snuck back into the house and into my cupboard."

Theo didn't respond.

"I didn't have parents growing up. I didn't even have anyone trying to be my parents. Nobody held me when I cried, or comforted me when I was sick. Nobody told me they loved me, ever. I'm sorrier than I can say that your dad is gone, but you had time with him. Lots of good time. You've got memories. That's more than I have."

Theo didn't appear to have heard a word of Harry's revelation. Nothing was getting through to him, even one of Harry's worst memories. He'd buried that experience deep down only to have it stirred up by his Occlumency lessons. Suddenly feeling very vulnerable at having opened up so much, Harry retreated from the room. His worry for Theo, at a peak level since Christmas, went up another notch.

In the common room, some of his friends were playing Exploding Hearts.

"Hey, Harry. Care to join in? Is Theo in the dorm?"

"Sounds like fun, Draco. Yes, he is, but he's still in his own world. I don't know if we're ever going to reach him."

"Pillock. It's nine months or so he's been like this. What's it going to take?"

"I don't know. I'm just about ready to give up. He's not even listening to us anymore."

Harry lost quite spectacularly at cards and was nursing sore fingers very quickly. Several of the fourth years joined in as well, and the group had quite a lovely time when they ought to have by all rights been studying. Harry knew it, in the back of his mind, but he ignored it. He was in no mood to concentrate on schoolwork.

Ginny swore as her cards exploded. She tried to throw them away at the last second, and it looked like she had summoned a fireball. Unfortunately, she had no protection from it either. She cradled her right hand.

"That almost worked," Harry said with a cheeky grin.

"'Almost' being the important part of that sentence."

"You tried."

"I'll need to try faster."

Ginny glanced around. He also noticed that they were the only two out of the game at the moment.

"Hey, Harry? A moment outside?"

"Sure, Ginny."

The pair took a casual stroll to the sliding wall that led out into the school dungeons.

"I want to talk to you about Theo."

"What about him?"

"He's been rather withdrawn this year."

"Yeah."

"There's some stuff going on. You've been trying to get him to talk about it."

"You're very perceptive."

"Thank you. You obviously haven't had any luck."

"Not really."

"I think you might want to back off and give him his space."

"He needs to talk to someone."

"You don't know what he's going through."

"How can I know? He won't talk to anyone."

"He won't talk to you, you mean."

"What?"

"For whatever his reason, he's not talking to you, but that doesn't mean he isn't talking to someone."

A knowing note in her voice made Harry look up sharply. She had a sad little smile on her face. She looked up and met his eyes.

"Who?"

"Me. Theo talked to me."

"He did? When?"

"What does that matter? I figured Theo might be able to talk to someone else who's taken a life. I offered to listen if he wanted to talk about it." 

"How did you figure out what he'd done?"

"I put it together in bits and pieces. The last clue was the thestrals. I knew he'd been through something pretty awful, but when he reacted so badly to seeing thestrals, I knew it involved death. I heard it might be because of his mother, but she died years ago, and he's seen the thestrals pulling the carriages. You all said he'd broken ties with his father, and I thought about how you were worried that the house is going to splinter. Even if he wouldn't talk to me, I felt that at last I had someone whom I could talk to. Someone who could relate, at least somewhat. We must have sat there for hours. When I had run out of things to say, I felt so much better. Letting it all out, not holding it in anymore, took such a burden off my shoulders. Then he slowly started talking. His voice was croaky, but he opened up to me a little."

Harry felt so relieved he could have cast a Patronus. "Ginny, that's such good news. We're just so worried about him. We don't know how to help."

"He said he knows you're here. It's just that he can barely cope with school right now. It's the one thing that's normal, that hasn't changed. He's seeking stability in his strength. When he's ready, he'll talk, but not before."

"I still can't believe he spoke to you. Why you?"

"Why me?" Ginny gave him a withering look. "Think about it, Harry. What did I do my first year? I set a basilisk on the school and got someone killed."

"That was Tom Riddle. That was Voldemort."

"I know who it was. He was inside me, and he used me. He let the basilisk out, and it killed Hermione Granger! It could have killed Justin Finch-Fletchley and all the rest of those poor Muggleborns! That girl is _dead_ because I wrote to a nice boy in a diary. Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?"

"It's not your fault, Ginny. Didn't Dumbledore say nobody could have resisted him? It was Voldemort."

She stared into nothing, seeming a million miles away. Her voice was hollow and haunted. Harry felt a chill run down his spine. Gazing into those eyes was like stepping in a black hole.

"It makes me feel dirty; violated. The end of my first year was just as horrible as the whole of term. I couldn't sleep from nightmares, and I got no respite during the day. My roommates weren't interested in the 'deeply disturbed' girl. They'd made their friendship while I was always writing in the diary. 

"I tried talking to my brothers. The twins kept making snake noises at me. Everything's a joke to them. They told me I just neeeded to laugh a little and banish all the bad thoughts. Ron, well, is Ron. He was too furious that a Slytherin saved me to even care how I felt about it. Every time I tried to bring up what happened, he'd always end up swearing and shouting. I could talk to Percy a little bit, but he was always so busy. It was his idea to try talking to you.

"Your gang let me hang around, but none of you cared to _talk_ to me. That summer was awful. Mum smothered me to the point of insanity. I was always fighting with Ron about you. Nobody in my own house wanted anything to do with me, and he begrudged me even the company of Slytherins. He gave Percy a huge load of grief too, and Dad was always getting dragged in the middle of it. Then Percy moved out of the house. Mum and Dad started to fight. He was already working two jobs, but he was never home anymore.

"Coming back to Hogwarts was a bit of a relief. The change of scene was good, but things were just impossible at home. I knew things were going to be hard. Percy was wrapped up in being Head Boy and studying for the NEWTs, but he always checked in on me, and at least I had some people to eat meals with. Then you came to my rescue again. You introduced me to Laine, and all of a sudden I had friends. They didn't let me dwell on things. Everything was fashion, make-up, and boys. It was all so normal. It was like I'd been given a second chance. I wasn't about to let it slip away.

"I never really talked about it. I shoved all of my guilt deep down inside. I buried it. I told myself that everyone was right. There was nothing I could have done differently. It wasn't my fault. I tried to go on with life, and it worked, I guess. Mostly. I still think about it on occasion.

"Then the real Tom Riddle came back. If he was that evil at sixteen, his reputation is well-earned. What I did to Hermione and the others has been on my mind a lot lately. I want him to pay for making me do that. That's why I signed up for the Ministry Youth. I'll do anything I can to fight him."

"I'm so sorry, Ginny. I never realized all that you were going through."

"It's okay. You were going through a lot too. Finding your godfather and building a new life? I wasn't about to dump all my baggage on you right when things were finally starting to come together for you."

"Right now, Voldemort is front and centre in my world. So if you want to talk about him, it won't wreck my mood."

"Not right now. I just want you to know that I'm in this fight no matter what. I'll give you all the help I can. If you fall, I'll fight on. If I fall, I hope someone else will pick up my wand."

Ginny's declaration gave Harry a warm feeling. Every witch or wizard who stood up against Voldemort's evil gave them a better chance at victory.

"Thanks, Ginny."

"We'd better get back before Laine thinks I'm moving in on her boyfriend."

"What's our cover?"

"Secret message from Percy. The fish is wet."

"Okay, sounds good."

* * *

To Harry's delight, the Hogsmeade weekend was a great success. Everybody was watchful and alert, but no hint of unquiet was heard. Of all the things they had expected, nothing at all was not on the list. Students went about their day, shopping and socializing, eating and drinking as though they had not a care in the world.

When the hour struck six, the prefects began to usher everyone back up to the castle. At half six, the gates to the grounds would be locked.

Under his invisibility cloak, Harry watched the last of the prefects go. He followed them with his eyes until they dipped out of sight along the path. Harry turned on the spot and Apparated to the far side of the lake, where Sirius was waiting for him with the motorbike. He whipped off the cloak and began to fold it neatly.

"Hey, Sirius."

"Hey, Harry. You look like hell."

"I didn't get much sleep last night."

"More than a few nights, I'd wager."

"Yeah."

"Cover story in place?"

"Yeah. Draco's going to tell people I'm holed up in the library working on a history assignment."

"Sounds good. Ready to go?"

"Can't wait. Where's my helmet?"

Once they were in the air, Harry felt his earthly cares fall away. It was impossible to be anything other than amazed by the wide open sky. The setting sun lit the atmosphere on fire. It was a soothing balm to his frayed nerves.

They landed in London and went directly to the house.

"Aww," Harry said, as they squealed to a stop. "It's over already?"

"We can take a cruise around the city later tonight, if you want."

"Yes."

Sirius led Harry up to the sitting room. Kreacher served tea and sandwiches.

"Here it is."

The new pensieve gleamed brilliantly in the firelight. It was a smooth, curved disk, made of a bluish-purple metal. The rim was carved with hundreds of runes, only a few of which Harry recognized individually. The structures were nothing he could comprehend.

"How does it work?"

"The spell is _Mnemonemi replicatia_. You focus on a memory, cast the spell, and you'll pull a strand of memory out of your head. Let me show you."

Sirius placed the tip of his wand to his temple. He whispered the spell, and a glowing strand of white light appeared. Sirius pulled it away from his head and deposited it in the shallow basin.

"This is the memory of your birthday party. If we lean down, we'll be taken inside. We'll see it as outside observers. You spent most of the day swimming with your friends. I had a number of interesting conversations with Moony, Lucius, and Narcissa."

Sirius and Harry leaned forward over the pensieve. When their noses touched the cold liquid, they were suddenly tipped into it headfirst.

He was falling and spinning. Harry thought he might be sick from dizziness, and only the fact that he could not see anything saved him. Gradually the darkness began to brighten, and Harry could see Sirius now. His godfather grinned at him.

"This is the fun part!"

They slowed as they came in for a landing. Harry touched down as gently as the Featherfall Charm. They stood in the dining room of the Shrieking Shack. Sirius, Remus, and Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy watched the children stampede down the hall to the changing rooms.

"I think the pool will be a hit," pensieve-Sirius declared with satisfaction.

"Well done, gentlemen," Mrs. Malfoy congratulated them.

"It was a lot of work to get this place in order, but Harry deserves it. Do you believe his aunt and uncle never had a party for him?"

"No birthday parties?"

"He wasn't allowed at Christmas parties or any sort of function at all. If the Dursleys went out, they locked him in a cupboard."

"Have I not always said, cousin, that Muggles are barbaric?" Mr. Malfoy interjected. "Harry has told me some of his mistreatment at their hands, and I'm sure there is much more he hasn't told anyone."

"Don't get started on Muggles today, Lucius."

"You brought them up, Sirius. They abused him because they felt it would drive the magic out of him. That idea is so uneducated and ignorant as to be pitiable. Let me go get you a Muggle newspaper, cousin, and I will show you what Muggles do even to each other."

"Fine, fine, Muggles are pigs. Happy now? Three pigs in particular, Vernon and Petunia Dursley, and their horrid son Dudley, made life miserable for Harry. I intend to make up for all that."

"A most worthwhile goal, cousin. I shall give you as much help as I can in that regard." Mr. Malfoy checked his watch. "Alas, I must depart. I have already lingered too long. I must needs Apparate every thirty-three minutes, else the Death Eaters will come for me."

Husband and wife embraced.

"Farewell, Lucius. To see you even briefly warms my heart."

"Cara mia," Lucius said, running his fingers down her face.

Husband and wife gazed into each others' eyes adoringly for a long moment.

Lucius Disapparated.

"You could see him more if you came to the manor," Sirius pointed out.

"I must keep an eye on everything at home. The Order has quite taken over the east wing. They're absolutely chaotic. Noisy, messy, and larcenous, the lot of them. I caught Mundungus Fletcher trying to make off with the silverware last week! I hexed his fingers together and put a money-repelling spell on him."

"Dung does have rather a loose interpretation of ownership."

"The man's a thief. If I could throw him out, I would. As it is, I've had to assign one of the house elves to watch him every second he's in the house."

"He's got his uses, but he's quite despicable," Remus said.

"That's putting it mildly," Mrs. Malfoy huffed.

"We appreciate all your efforts, Narcissa," Sirius said.

"I do wish Lucius hadn't volunteered the manor so casually, but it's one more way he can contribute."

"His commitment to the cause is admirable. I just wish it hadn't come as a last resort. We could have used him in the last war."

"We cannot change the past, cousin. All we can do is attempt to live with it."

"Any word from Andromeda?"

"She still will not return my letters. I fear that breach will never be healed. It seems that I am an only child."

"I'm sorry, Narcissa. I know it's not easy to accept that Bellatrix is apt to kill you on sight."

"Bella would never harm me. Lucius, I'm sure she would kill without a second thought. The Dark Lord has surely commanded it. But me? As you say, I am her sister. Ties of blood are all we have in this world."

"Which is why it was so important to reach out to Andy. Put family above politics."

"Family _is_ politics, Sirius."

"What about your husband? If she'd kill him, would she not kill his children? Despite them being yours as well?"

Mrs. Malfoy looked troubled. "I do not know."

"She's completely crazed. I think she would."

"I hope we never have to find out."

Harry came out of the Pensieve feeling very thoughtful. It was quite strange to have heard that conversation. He felt almost like he had eavesdropped on the grown-ups.

"I never knew Missus Malfoy was upset about the Order being in her house."

"She's not upset, per se, but she does wish they would be a little more respectful. None of the damage has yet been irreparable. Emphasis on the 'yet'."

"I'm glad she was able to reconcile with Andromeda."

"As am I. It felt very good to restore her place in the family tree."

"Will you be making any more additions?" Harry asked slyly. "Has Missus Malfoy found you any nice girls to chat up yet?"

"Several," Sirius said sourly. "She is surely most persistent in this regard. I had hoped the wine might have made her forget the whole idea, but she's been sending me virtual dossiers whenever she gets a spare moment."

"Anyone interesting?"

"Not really. I'm sure they're very nice girls, but I can't see that I have anything in common with any of them."

"You're one of a kind, Sirius."

"Thank you, Harry. Shall we get on with it?"

"So the spell replicates a memory, right? Is there a spell that removes the memory? I've got a few I'd like to forget."

"There is, but I'll have to look it up. Ready to give it a try?"

"Sure."

Harry had shared much of his past with Sirius already, as it concerned growing up on Privet Drive. He had no particular wish to revisit any of that span of his life, so he concentrated on events after his discovery of magic. The quest through the dungeons of the school to rescue the Philosopher's Stone, as dangerous as it had seemed at the time, was the least of his adventures, despite encountering Voldemort for the first time in ten years. He'd taken control of a basilisk and faced down a young Voldemort. Sirius had watched Harry's confrontation with the dragon. Harry had ventured beneath the water and fought his way to the merpeople village to rescue Sirius. The Maze had reached inside his very being and changed him. One by one, Harry placed his memories in the Pensieve. Sirius had been right; dredging all that stuff up wasn't pleasant. He'd been seeing it a lot lately with his Occlumency lessons, but he still found himself pretty shaky.

That wonderful first year: The arrival of the Hogwarts letters shortly before his eleventh birthday. The frantic efforts of the Muggles to escape from the onslaught. Harry's rescue by Hagrid, and the outrage he'd felt upon learning his parents had been murdered. The mystery and adventure of a magical castle had sparked desperate hope in him. The meeting of a boy in Diagon Alley who was to become his best mate through good times and bad had filled a life-long desire for friends. The meeting of other children on the train, who hadn't made a spectacle of him like the public room at the Leaky Cauldron or later on while traversing the halls of the school. The first confrontations with Professor Snape. His Quidditch trial and the first match. The mountain troll and the ill-conceived heroics that had led the three Slytherins to tangle with it. His elation during Christmas, when he'd gotten presents for the first time. The longing he'd felt at seeing his parents in the Mirror of Erised. His adventure deep within the school to conquer huge plants, giant chessmen, and potions puzzles. The showdown with Quirrell. Confronting Voldemort.

His second year: Being locked up for the summer. Being rescued by Elan and Draco. Dealing with Lockhart. The mysterious voice. The petrifications. The suspicion. The duelling club. Parseltongue. The Heir of Slytherin. Draco's assault. Percy's exile from Gryffindor and acceptance by Slytherin. The diary. Ginny. Being lured to the Chamber of Secrets. Confronting Voldemort. The basilisk. Taking control of it and destroying Tom Riddle.

His third year: Being locked up for the summer. Aunt Marge. Breaking out and hexing the Muggles. Finding Sirius. Hailing the Knight Bus. Dementors. What Harry heard when they got close. Remus Lupin. Tracy Davis. The discovery of Pettigrew. The showdown in the Shrieking Shack. The reuinion with Sirius. The evidence presented to the Ministry. The Dementor's Kiss of Pettigrew. Going home.

Last year: Turning Grimmauld Place into a home with Sirius. Animagus lessons. The fun of the World Cup. The Death Eater attack. The Goblet of Fire. Reopening the CoS. Training for the Tasks. The Tasks. The Yule Ball. The Maze. The duels at the end. Azkaban. Voldemort. 

This year: Sirius, Remus, Lucius, and Apparition lessons. Prefect badge. The meetings. The prophecy. Defence class. Ministry Youth meetings. Quidditch captain. Laine. A whole lot of Laine. 

Harry worked for several hours. When he felt too drained to continue, he crawled into bed and slept deeply. He neglected to clear his mind of emotion. So many memories stirred up a great deal of emotion, and his dreams were troubled. A strange door in a strange place. It seemed important, but Harry had no idea what it meant.

The next morning, Harry woke late. His first fuzzy thought was that his bed was very warm and cosy. His second thought was that he was still in his own bed at Grimmauld Place. He sat bolt upright. He'd never made it back to Hogwarts!

He threw himself through his morning routine and hurried down to the dining room to find Sirius, Remus, and Mr. Malfoy just sitting down to breakfast.

"Good morning, Harry," Sirius said warmly. "Sleep well?"

"I guess so. Sirius, am I going to get in trouble? I never went back to the castle after the Hogsmeade weekend. Surely I'll have been missed."

"Not to worry," Sirius said. "I sent an owl to Snape explaining that we had a private family matter to attend to. He's running interference if anyone should ask."

"That's nice of him."

"We should get you back as soon as possible, though. What do you say we give your Apparition skills a try?"

"All the way to Hogsmeade?"

"I was thinking more like to the Shrieking Shack."

Harry _did_ have a rather vivid picture of the old place in his mind. "Yeah. All right, then. After breakfast, though."

"Of course."

Once he had eaten his fill, Harry and Sirius retired to the duelling room on the second floor.

"I'll go first."

With a pop, Sirius Disapparated.

Harry focused his mind on the place where so much had happened to him. Not only had he learned the truth about Sirius in the Shack, but he'd also had a lovely afternoon with his closest friends on his last birthday.

_I want to be there. I want to be with Sirius._

Harry bent every ounce of his will on that thought and turned on the spot.

He disappeared with a pop.

When he crashed back into reality, Sirius was there to steady him.

"Well done, Harry!"

He was too dizzy to reply. He had never Apparated so far before.

"Catch your breath, and then I think you should head through the tunnel."

"Right."

When he no longer felt like up-chucking his breakfast, Harry hugged Sirius tightly and transformed into his mongoose. Sirius lifted the trap door, and Chitter jumped down.

* * *

Back at school, Harry was in the second floor girls' bathroom. He hissed the word of command and opened the way to the Chamber of Secrets. Showing his memory of the place to Sirius had nudged a few things for him. There was a secret room hidden in the back behind the statue of Salazar Slytherin. He'd meant to investigate several times before, and he knew it was a study of some sort. It was time to open the lock.

"I'm here, Sirius," he said into the enchanted mirror. "I'm in front of the door. It looks like wood, but it feels like stone. I think it might be petrified wood. I went on a class trip when I was in Muggle school, and I remember seeing something similar."

"That would make sense," came Sirius' voice through the mirror. "Petrified wood can diffuse magical energies. It will make the door harder to open. Show me."

Harry reversed the mirror and slowly waved it around in front of the door.

"I think you're correct, Harry. You said a normal Unlocking Charm didn't work."

"Right."

"Too easy. Too common. Have you tried talking in Parseltongue? Maybe it opens just like the Chamber itself."

"I never tried. Hang on."

Harry stared at the door handle, which was in the shape of a serpent.

" _Open!_ "

The latch clicked, and the door swung open with a creak that echoed loudly over the water and stone. The room inside contained a desk, a single chair, and many shelves full of books. A puff of air carried the scent of old parchment, dry stone, and timelessness.

"It worked, Sirius!"

"Score one for the Marauders! Be careful now. You don't know what traps might have been left behind."

"There aren't any traps," Harry said confidently. "It's protected by secrecy and ability. Slytherin _wanted_ his true heirs to find this place. He prepared and left it for us. He didn't want his knowledge and wisdom lost. I have nothing to fear here."

"Humour me?" Sirius requested. "Cast the Detection Charms."

"Of course, Sirius. I'm sure I won't find anything, but I'll be very glad if I do. Just because I have a logical and reasoned hypothesis doesn't mean I'm going to throw caution to the wind."

A wave of pale blue light washed over everything in the room. Several objects began to glow in response. A thin book on a stand, the bookshelves themselves, but nothing else.

"I don't see any lines or strange glows anywhere, Sirius. There are a couple of enchanted objects here, but nothing that seems dangerous. They'd be glowing red if they were dangerous, right?"

"That's right, Harry. If they're blue or orange, that's okay."

The first thing Harry checked out was the book on the stand. It seemed incongruous that such a thin tome should be given such an important place. He flipped open the cover.

_Welcome, Slytherin's Heir. I am the Guide. My purpose is to assist you in your quest for knowledge. Slytherin left all of this for you. Name your desire, and I will guide you._

"This book on the stand calls itself the Guide. I think it might be some sort of index to the books down here."

"Give it a try."

"Guide, I wish to know about dragons."

The Guide began to glow with a pale purple light. Seven books floated off the shelves from various locations and drifted towards the reading desk.

"A Hunter's Guide to Dragon-Killing," he read from the cover of one. "That would have come in handy last year. Native Dragon Species of the Globe. Examining the Egg. This is fantastic! Sirius, I'm going to poke around a bit. I'll call you later."

"That sounds fine. Be careful."

"I will."

"Guide, bring me books about Potions."

A pristine copy of Moste Potente Potions and an untitled book floated over.

"Guide, I need to learn about Dark magic."

One book emerged, also with no title. The text was in an elaborate, flowing script that seemed almost serpentine. Harry flipped to a random page and found it blank. He turned back and found that the document was a collection of notes and observations.

 

Subject seven describes the effect of the spell as the worst sensation he's ever felt. It was as though he had smashed his thumb with a hammer, only everywhere on his body, at once, and the initial brilliance of the pain was perpetual. I confess, this description makes me wince. Having once done the very same thing myself, I could empathize with the pain.

I am convinced that I am on the correct path.

The success of the spell hinges on firing all the pain nerves in the body at once. The agony thus created is debilitating and blinding. It will be a most effective weapon and will let me avoid unneccessary killing. I treasure magical life. Though they have volunteered for the honour of assisting their esteemed Headmaster, each one that I have let slip away is another piece of my sanity. Their sacrifices must not be in vain. I must make the others see reason. The Muggles will kill us all unless we take action. We must not reveal ourselves even to the Muggleborns. We must monitor them and clean up their accidental magic, but they cannot be trusted. The Muggles would destroy us.

 

Each entry was signed. With trembling hands, Harry realized that this journal had been written by the Founder himself. What he held was priceless beyond measure.

Harry took the notes and placed them carefully in his bag. He headed directly for Professor Snape's office. He was due for Occlumency anyway.

"Come in, Mister Potter. I trust your visit with your godfather was productive."

"Yes, sir."

"Have you been clearing your mind regularly?"

"Yes, sir, though not so much last night. I was too worn out."

"You must be more committed, Mister Potter. The Dark Lord will take advantage of such lapses."

"Yes, sir. I'll need a few minutes to prepare before we begin tonight."

Snape arched an eyebrow. "You have not asked for that since our first session. What has happened?"

"I've got something I think you should see."

Harry handed over the journal and smiled to himself as he watched Snape's normally unflappable countenance crack.

"Do I dare ask where you found this, Mister Potter?"

"There's a small library down in the Chamber of Secrets. I finally took a look inside."

"I will need to examine this most thoroughly."

"Go ahead, sir. I don't have time to read anything that's not about classes. The OWLs are only a few months away."

Snape put the notes in a drawer of his desk and cast a Locking Hex, seating a Memory Charm inside. Harry gulped. Whoever tried to open that compartment without the proper key risked losing his entire identity.

"Shall we begin?"

"One moment, sir."

Harry took a deep breath through his nose and slowly let it out his mouth. He closed his eyes and expelled all emotion with every breath. He couldn't afford to pay Slytherin's research any further attention. His only concern was shielding his memory. When he had calmed his thoughts, he opened his eyes.

"I'm ready, sir."

" _Legilimens!_ "

Professor Snape no longer bothered with tentative probes. The force of his mind was like a hammer, and Harry could not hope to withstand it. He could only deflect it.

The assault slammed against him but failed to penetrate. The mental touch backed away, and Harry fought down a surge of elation. He'd never managed to stop Snape before, but he couldn't let one success unravel his concentration. If he did, the next blow would smash his defences.

The next strike came just as quickly, and Harry angled his shield again to deflect the attack. It worked for a moment, but then the edge crumbled. Memories began to flash through his head. Harry fought off the sense of panic that always accompanied an intrusion and pushed Snape out again.

"Good!" Snape was favouring him with a small smile. "Well done, Mister Potter. Keep it up."

Harry nodded, wary of a sudden strike.

They worked for another hour before Snape called a halt to the exercise. Harry had learned how to detatch himself from his memories, so Snape seldom saw anything even when he did break into Harry's mind.

"Continue to clear your mind throughout the day. Before lectures, before meals, and before Quidditch practices."

"Yes, sir."

"Do you have a moment? Would you care for a cup of tea?"

"Thank you, sir."

"I find assam most conducive to study, but I have some oolong if you'd care for that instead."

"Assam would be fine, sir."

The tea was strong, served without cream or sugar. Harry inhaled the aroma deeply. "I can see I'll be awake for several hours. I should work on my Defence assignment."

"How do you find Professor Umbridge's class?"

"She's really intense. Between the lectures, the practical portion, and the duelling club, she's harder in her own way than Professor Moody."

"What do you think of your new role?"

"I'm getting used to it, sir. It's one more thing added to my schedule, and I don't know how much longer I can juggle everything."

"I have every faith in you, Mister Potter."

"No offense, sir, but that's a hell of a thing to say to someone."

Snape twitched a smile. "I am not blind, Mister Potter. I know what it is you want. Your destination is confrontation with Voldemort."

Harry turned his face up slightly, silently acknowledging Snape's supposition.

"You have won the loyalty of a good many Slytherins. They will follow you if you choose to lead them. Are you prepared to bring them with you into war, Mister Potter? Are you prepared to watch your friends die and know that you could do nothing to prevent it? Could you live with yourself if they die because of a mistake you made? Because that is what is coming, Mister Potter, if you choose to confront Voldemort. It will be war, and it will take a toll in blood."

These were questions Harry had lost sleep over. The thought of his own death really wasn't intimidating to Harry. He couldn't attribute his attitude to any particular event, either. He'd gone into a series of lethal trials at the age of eleven to rescue the Philosopher's Stone from Voldemort's agent and had faced snake-face himself. He'd opened the Chamber of Secrets in his second year and gone inside after Ginny Weasley, a Gryffindor, even though he'd known there was a basilisk around. He'd conquered awful things in the Maze and had faced down Voldemort himself. Somehow Harry had become a bit cavalier about his own safety.

He had played at being Lord Potter, but was he truly able or willing to make the kinds of decisions that might lead to the deaths of others?

His nightmares sometimes held images of himself with a serpentine face and glowing red eyes, a Dark Lord in his own right. His empire had been built on the blood of those he had once held dear. Thousands cowered at his name, but Harry didn't recognize himself in the mirror. He had become He Who Could Not Be Named.

"I don't know, sir," he replied honestly, "but he has to die. Again. Permanently, this time. I think that's worth just about anything, even my guilt."

Snape considered that for a thoughtful moment. "I do not know whether to be inspired or terrified at that answer, Mister Potter. Perhaps it is both."

"If they choose to follow me, then that is their right as wizards," Harry replied. "They know who I am, they know what I'm going to do, and they make their own decision. I won't project my will on to them. That's what he does."

There was no doubt which "he" Harry meant.

"Ah, so it's inspired I feel."


	21. Not the End of the World

Harry was practicing his Occlumency every moment he got now. A few minutes here and there had really done wonders for his ability to concentrate. His marks were up slightly, and he didn't feel nearly as out of control as he had been lately. It was easier for him to sit through prefect meetings with Diggory and Spinnet droning on and on. His focus in the duelling club was increasing, and he was getting very good. Nobody so far had been able to defeat him. In group exercises, his team always triumphed. Because of his requirement that people change partners often, everyone was always eager to be on Harry's team. He was better able to tolerate the times when his mates took the piss out of "Captain Potter" in the privacy of the Slytherin common room and the plethora of grief he got from the team for being Lieutenant Captain.

He really hoped that Voldemort didn't decide to interfere in today's match. Slytherin badly needed to defeat Ravenclaw. It was shaping up to be a very even contest. Ravenclaw's team was rather experienced, and Roger Davies, the captain, was quite the strategist. It would ultimately come down to the Seekers, and though Harry was confident he could beat Cho Chang to the snitch, anything could happen when it came to Quidditch. Harry only hoped that Voldemort wouldn't try to take advantage of their mental link during the match.

The match was scheduled for the first Saturday in March. When the team arrived in the Great Hall for breakfast, the sky overhead was cloudy and ominous.

"Think the rain will hold off?" Goyle said.

"It doesn't matter," Harry said firmly. "We'll play anyway."

"I know. I was just wondering."

"You two had better keep those bludgers directed at Ravenclaw," Harry warned.

"This isn't our first match, Harry."

"No, it's your second," Bletchley said sharply. "You're not good enough to start thinking you're the cock of the walk. Listen to Harry. You need to stay sharp out there if you're going to stay ahead of Ravenclaw's Beaters."

"We've been training hard, Captain. We're ready for them."

"See that you are. If we lose because you can't keep things under control, you'll wish Flint was still here to save you."

Up at the high table, a single owl swooped down and delivered a pink envelope to Hagrid. He looked a bit startled and took the letter. He tore it open and read the parchment inside slowly, disbelief growing plainer on his face. He turned to look down the table at Dumbledore.

"Professor, sir?" he said, his tone full of hurt feelings.

"What is it, Hagrid?"

"I bin sacked."

"Sacked? Not by me."

"Her."

Hagrid had been on probation, threatened with the sack if he didn't show improvement by the end of February. The big man knew about Magical Creatures, but he was a joke of a teacher.

Hagrid rose to his feet.

"Yer jest tossin' me outta here then?"

Professor Umbridge had been daintilly eating her toast.

"Yes, Hagrid. Your performance in the classroom speaks for itself. Your often-stated belief that the prescribed course material isn't interesting enough leads to your presentation of some very dangerous beasts indeed. The threat to the students is unacceptable.

"Furthermore you simply cannot control a classroom of even first-years. Discipline is non-existant. The students pay attention only if they want to.

"You do not even properly mark the homework assignments. I know because I had several of the students insert diatribes against the school and headmaster. Had you read the papers, given your well-known regard for Professor Dumbledore, it would have provoked a reaction. As it is, there was nothing.

"The students deserve better than you, Hagrid. You are a poor educator. You are dismissed. Pack your things and be gone from the grounds by nightfall."

"Surely there is no need to expel our Keeper of Keys and Grounds," Dumbledore said, still in his seat.

"Yes, that reminds me. You will need to surrender all of your keys before you leave."

"Professor Umbridge, you may have the power to remove my teachers, but you do not have the right to replace my staff. Hagrid is a most effective man, and I continue to require his services."

Umbridge smiled sweetly at Dumbledore. "As you wish, Headmaster."

Hagrid sat down again and stared at his plate. He didn't eat anything else and kept his hands in his lap.

Laine arrived in the Great Hall and sat down next to Harry. Her perfume was delightful, as always, but he refused to be distracted by it today.

"Hey, guess what? Hagrid just got sacked!"

"That's nice. You didn't wait for me."

"The team came up," he said with a shrug. "I had to go with them."

"I guess I'll just have to learn to hurry up my makeup so you don't leave me behind," she said tartly.

"I don't want you to stab yourself in the eye with a swab," he tried to joke. "Next year when I'm captain, I'll always wait for the reserve team to be ready as well."

"You'd better."

At that moment, a ball of parchment beaned Harry in the head. He flinched reflexively. Only a Banishing Charm could have gotten it moving fast enough.

_So much for constant vigilance._

Uncrumpling the ball, Harry discovered a drawing of himself (the prominent scar made it obvious) being struck by a dozen bludgers while a horribly racist caricature of Cho Chang held up a fluttering snitch.

Across the hall, Weasley was trying to look innocent and failing. Harry scowled. Maybe he'd find an excuse to fly into the stands and knock Weasley down.

The table was still buzzing about Hagrid, but before much longer, Bletchley stood up and motioned to the team.

"But I'm not done yet," Laine protested.

"Should have gotten up on time, Slater," the Captain said unsympathetically.

Harry tried to apologize without words as he followed the team. Laine hurriedly grabbed several handfuls of toast and stuffed a whole piece in her mouth before hurrying after them.

In the locker room, Harry quickly changed into his uniform robes and sat down to have a few moments to himself. He closed his eyes and banished all thought and emotion. 

The teachers were constantly reminding the fifth years that O.W.L. results would impact their future schooling and thus their entire careers as wizards. The Occlumency lessons themselves were necessary because of the prophecy, forever reminding Harry about his awful destiny. Sometimes he felt completely overwhelmed by all the doom.

Harry opened his eyes. Yes, his team needed to win, but it was ultimately only a game. He would strive to win, of course, but it was nice to be able to do something that didn't have the fate of the world wrapped up in it.

Feeling much better, Harry paid attention as Bletchley stood up to give the Captain's traditional speech.

"Men, we've got our work cut out for us today. Ravenclaw is very experienced, and we'll need to be in top form. We've trained for this. We're ready for this. As long as we keep our heads about us, we ought to do well. I don't think we'll be able to run the score up on them, so, Harry, we're depending on you to catch the snitch and win it for us."

Harry rose to his feet. "Bletchley is right, men. Ravenclaw is a very tough team, and we need every single point we can sneak. Don't worry too much about committing fouls. Bletchley is a fantastic Keeper. It's more important to take the Quaffle away from them as much as we can. Madam Hooch doesn't see every foul, and she doesn't call them as often as she should, so let's use that to our advantage."

"Up Slytherin!" Bletchley called.

"Up Slytherin!" the team roared back.

"Welcome, Hogwarts, to another fine Quidditch match. Today Slytherin will challenge Ravenclaw, trying to redeem their loss to Gryffindor earlier in the season. Ravenclaw, of course, lost to Hufflepuff and is looking to get back on top. Introducing the Ravenclaw team: Chang, Davies, Ingram, Kovalsick, O'Rourke, Sunderlund, and Webster!"

Ravenclaw's section of the stand burst into cheering and applause as the team shot out of the starting tunnel and took a few laps around the pitch.

"Here is the Slytherin team: Bletchley, Crabbe, Goyle, Montague, Potter, Pucey, and Warrington!"

Harry kicked off and followed Bletchley into the sky. Slytherin cheered and whooped in support. Several firecrackers exploded above the crowd, raining down green and silver confetti.

Both teams landed in the centre of the pitch. Bletchley stepped forward and motioned to Harry to do the same. Davies was by himself.

"I want a nice clean match," Madam Hooch said firmly. "Be sportsmanlike and have fun up there."

"Ravenclaw always plays fair," Davies said pompously.

Bletchley snorted rudely. "Good luck, Davies. You're going to need it."

Davies offered his hand. Bletchley accepted and shook it firmly.

"Mount your brooms!"

Harry kicked off. The Chasers began to circle.

"I'm releasing the snitch!"

The golden ball winged towards the Ravenclaw Seeker, Cho Chang, and vanished.

Madam Hooch threw the Quaffle into the air, and the game was on!

Davies snatched the ball first and immediately threw it to Ingram. She ducked under Montague, who took a vicious swipe at her, and moved towards the hoops. Warrington missed the interception, and Kovalsick took the shot. Bletchley barely got there in time and knocked the Quaffle out to Warrington.

"Ravenclaw misses their first scoring opportunity, and now Slytherin has possession!"

Warrington tucked the Quaffle close to his chest and took off down the pitch. He collided roughly with Ingram and was immediately called for a foul.

"It's a penalty for blatching, deliberately flying to collide! Ingram takes the penalty shot, but Bletchley stops it easily. Come on, Ravenclaw! You've got to do better than that!"

Bletchley threw the ball out to Pucey, who passed up-pitch to Montague. Montague made a run on the goal, but Harry tore his attention away to look for the snitch.

A quick scan of the pitch revealed nothing. Chang's usual tactic was to tail Harry because her eyesight wasn't so great, but this was a futile move, because once Harry saw the snitch, nobody at Hogwarts could catch him. She appeared to have learned this lesson finally, because she was currently at the opposite end of the pitch, darting here, there, and everywhere in her search.

Crabbe got a good hit on a bludger and sent Ingram spiraling to the ground. Pucey caught the pass intended for her. He passed to Warrington, and the Slytherins launched into Flint's variant of the Hawkshead Attack Formation.

After slicing through the Ravenclaw defence like they weren't even there, the score was twenty-love.

After over two hours of fruitless seeking, the snitch just didn't want to come out. Harry was mildly irritated, but he enjoyed watching the match. The score was tied at two hundred points each, and then Ravenclaw fooled Bletchley to score again.

The crowd loved a great match, and that's what they were getting. Matches at Hogwarts seldom went longer than thirty minutes, and this display was a real treat.

Chang made a sudden dive. Harry swore and zoomed after her. She wasn't daring enough to try to fake him out, so he knew she'd seen the snitch. He crept up on her, but she had a good lead. Harry urged his Firebolt closer. Chang reached her hand out, just touching the fluttering wings with her fingertips.

Harry pulled even with her and bumped into her broom.

"Potter!"

Harry ignored her protest and stretched out, trying to grab the snitch. It flew frantically, doing its best to escape. Chang poked him in the side, breaking his concentration. The snitch inched away from them.

Harry leaned forward even more, practically touching his chin to his broom handle. Chang did the same, and they were neck and neck.

The snitch took a sudden sharp turn up. Locked together, both Seekers overshot. Harry shoved Chang away from him and tried to follow the snitch. His Firebolt was better than her Cleansweep, and he was able to make a tighter turn.

Harry found himself chasing the snitch with Chang tucked in behind him. She was drafting him, using him as a shield against the wind. She crept closer.

The snitch began to twist in a spiral, making itself harder to grab. Harry had practiced his own spinning, so he was able to follow it. Chang fell back as Harry's fingers closed around the golden ball.

The Slytherins went berserk.

Harry landed on the pitch, sheer elation making his sore muscles stop aching. Chang came down next to him, disappointment plain to see. She said something, but it was hard to hear her over the roar of the crowd. Harry shook his head and cupped a hand to his ear. She leaned in so that her breath tickled his ear.

"How do you keep doing this?" she asked. "You're amazing. I've never seen a better catch."

"It's a gift," he said cheekily.

"Well done, Potter. Really."

"Thanks."

Goyle and Crabbe lifted him up on their shoulders and carried him around as shrieking Slytherins rushed the pitch.

When they at last put him down, Harry looked around for Laine. He reached out to hug her, but she felt stiff and unresponsive in his arms. He pulled back and saw a frown marring her pretty face.

"What's wrong? We won!"

"What were you doing talking to _her_?"

"Who?"

"Chang!"

"Oh, that. Nothing. She was just congratulating me on a good catch."

Laine still didn't look happy.

"It's just good sportsmanship."

"If you say so."

Harry didn't like the tone in her voice, but he didn't have a chance to stay on the subject. Bletchley came up and clapped him on the back.

"Fantastic catch, Harry! See that, Slater? That's how it's done! Let's hit the showers and get up to the common room. We've got some celebrating to do!"

Harry was swept away, and he hurried through his shower, unable to enjoy the warmth. Laine seemed really bothered by Chang. Could she be jealous? She'd never shown any inkling of it before, and Harry had a lot of female friends.

By the time the team emerged from the locker room, the rain had finally started to fall. Cold wet drops splattered on Harry's glasses, obscuring his vision. He covered his face as best he could and hurried back up to the castle.

The prefects had already gotten the party well-organized by the time they arrived. There was a fine selection of food and beverage. Harry sat down in one of the two large chairs, next to Bletchley.

"Once again, Slytherin wins, thanks to the amazing talent of our Seeker and captains," declared Heather Chandler.

"Up Slytherin!"

It was a tradition that the guests of honour at any party were not allowed to serve themselves. Bletchley was being catered to by Amanda Bole and Courtney Hammaran, both seventh years. The four sixth years (Samantha Warrington, Erika Chabré, Veronica Sawyer, and Joy duMonde) were attending to the Chasers.

"Hey Daphne, get me some butterbeer," Goyle requested. This was the first time he'd ever been in such a position.

"That'd be great," Crabbe said. "Millie, would you mind?"

The two girls giggled and went to fetch drinks for the Beaters.

"Can I get you anything, Harry?" Tracy asked with a broad grin.

"Your services are not required, Davis," Laine said frostily. "I'm more than capable of getting my boyfriend anything he needs."

"Relax, Slater. This is supposed to be a good time."

"I am thirsty," Harry said hastily.

"I'll be right back."

Tracy queried Harry with a single look as Laine moved away. Harry shrugged slightly.

"Whatever," Tracy said in an undertone.

When Laine came back, she not only had several bottles of butterbeer but also a plate of cauldron cakes and a large helping of treacle tart.

"Mmm, my favourite," Harry said.

"I know."

Laine sat down on his lap and snuggled into him. Her skin was icy cold, as though she hadn't worn a cloak to see the match.

"Are you okay? You're acting kind of off."

"I'm fine."

"Okay."

Laine insisted on being the only one to serve Harry, and while he didn't understand why she was behaving so strangely, he didn't bring the subject up again. If she wanted to tell him, she would do it in her own time.

As the party began to wind down a bit, Laine pulled slightly on his arm. "Do you want to go somewhere a bit more private?"

"Sure." He seldom got a chance to spend lengths of time with his girlfriend, so he allowed himself to be led out of the common room. "Where are we going?"

"How about that special room you found?"

"That would do nicely."

They took a series of secret passages. Up on the seventh floor, Harry paced back and forth, thinking about the room with all the pillows.

In addition, with the chill of the day on his mind, the room produced a large fireplace which radiated blissful heat.

"This is much nicer," Laine said.

She removed her cloak and tossed it carelessly at the cloakrack. She kicked off her shoes and lay back on the pillows, and the smoldering look she directed his way nearly made Harry's heart stop beating. The firelight flashed in her eyes, turning them red.

"Come here and kiss me, Harry."

Harry found her command irresistable, and he likewise shucked his cloak. He tossed his shoes in the same general direction and joined her on the pillows.

She kissed him, hard. Her tongue poked at his lips, demanding entry. She ran her hands over his chest, feeling his hard muscles. She made small happy noises and undid the top two buttons of his shirt. She slid one hand inside, and the sensation shot right to his groin.

Harry planted numerous kisses along her jaw until he reached behind her ear, where he licked the soft skin. She made a sound of satisfaction and squirmed closer to him.

She undid another button. In short order, Laine had his shirt off and was covering his chest with licks and kisses.

"You're so muscular," she whispered in his ear, her hot breath making him even more excited.

For his own part, Harry hadn't done much. Taking her sighs as a positive sign, he ran his hands up her sides and dared to cup her breasts. She pressed forward, urging him to continue.

They had never gone this far before, and Harry was having trouble thinking straight. He didn't want to stop, but all of Mr. Malfoy's and Sirius' admonitions about respecting girls was thundering in his mind.

He pulled back slightly.

"What's wrong?" she asked, her voice husky.

"Nothing."

"Then why are you stopping?"

"I don't want to go faster than you're comfortable with."

"Harry, when I want you to stop, believe me, I will tell you."

He dared to unbutton her shirt a bit and smiled.

"You're wearing the locket."

"Yes. I love it. I never take it off except to sleep."

"I'm glad."

"Stop talking, Harry."

Helpless to refuse, Harry lost himself in the pleasures of the flesh. His brain was near overload with these new sensations. His trousers felt extremely tight, and he'd never been more grateful for Sirius' Concealment Charm.

He was brought back to reality when his stomach rumbled. Harry glanced at the clock on the wall and realized it was nearly dinner time.

"We've got to go eat," he said regretfully.

"I'd rather stay here."

"We can't. It's duelling club tonight, and we'll need our strength."

"Can't you take a night off?"

"I'm the captain. I have to go."

Laine pouted, and she looked pretty even doing that. "Don't you want to stay here with me?"

"More than anything, but I've got responsibilities. You know that."

"I don't have to like it."

Harry moved to give her a kiss in apology, but Laine turned her head away and fastened her top two buttons.

"Let's go, then."

Feeling very confused, Harry helped Laine into her cloak. She headed for the door even before he had his on. He hurried to catch up with her and would have held her hand, but she had them tucked under her cloak. At the dinner table, though Laine sat next to him, she didn't speak to him except in distant, non-committal ways. 

Draco and Millie were talking about the History essay, which Harry had finished. They didn't seem to need his help. Harry tried to follow Pansy's conversation with Daphne, but when the subject turned to hair potions, he nearly stuffed bread in his ears.

The last of the desserts vanished off the table, and those students who were not in the Ministry Youth began to depart the Great Hall. Harry got to his feet and went up to the front of the hall.

"Are you ready, Captain Potter?" Umbridge asked in her cheery voice.

"Yes, Professor."

Harry pointed his wand and banished each house table and the benches in turn, clearing the room.

"Okay, everyone! We're going to start off with some physical training. I hope you didn't eat too much. Stretches first!"

Loosening up the muscles was very important before any strenuous physical activity.

"Jumping jacks!"

When they reached fifty, Harry called a stop. "Pushups!"

After a Ravenclaw fourth year girl collapsed, Harry called out, "Situps!"

With a wave of his wand, Harry transfigured the floor of the hall into the material that exercise mats were made of. Every student began the situps.

"Now then," Harry said after several minutes, "everyone find two partners. We're going to practice dodging. The best counterspell is to not get hit with the spell in the first place. In combat, you won't necessarily be up against one opponent, so practice dodging from two angles."

This new exercise was not popular, to judge on the amount of swearing uttered. Harry routinely ignored foul language. Umbridge frowned, but she did not take any points.

When they had worked on dodging for nearly forty-five minutes, Harry changed things up yet again. He waved his wand and changed the exercise mats into targets.

"Time for endurance casting! Everyone pick your worst spells and do your best to get better."

Harry walked up and down the line, offering a word of encouragement here, a suggestion for improvement there. He watched Laine for a moment, but she was doing fine with the Blasting Curse, so he moved on.

Hannah Abbott was attempting the Slashing Hex but not having much success. Harry observed her for a moment and instantly spotted her problem.

"Hi, Hannah. Your grip isn't quite right. I'm surprised your wand hasn't flown clear out of your hand."

"It's never failed me yet."

"It's not failing you now. You're failing it. Don't hold on so tightly. Here."

Hannah's hand was very soft, Harry noticed as he shifted her fingers slightly.

"There. Now try again."

The spell emerged with a bolt of blue light but was several feet off the mark, and the wall obtained a new scar.

"Good!"

"Good?"

"Yes," Harry said with a firm nod. "You cast the spell, didn't you?"

"I suppose I did."

"Now just work on that aim. Slowly this time."

Hannah waved her wand in the proscribed pattern, but Harry stopped her.

"Here. You're making the left swish too big, so you're bringing your wand up at the end. That's why you're going off-target."

Harry stepped right next to Hannah and placed his hand over hers. He went through the motions with her.

"See?"

"I think so. Let's try it."

This time the blue light actually hit the target, and a smile blossomed on Hannah's face.

"Thanks, Harry. You're the best."

"Keep up the good work."

Harry let the endurance casting go on for half an hour and then called a halt.

"I had hoped to get some duelling in tonight, but we'll save that for next time. Dismissed!"

There was a sudden scurry for bags and cloaks as the meeting broke up.

Harry went to find Laine so they could walk down to the common room together.

Laine didn't smile at him.

"So now you have time for me."

"Not much, I'm afraid. I've got so much homework to do. I want to get a start on Professor Babbling's translation so it's not hanging over my head."

"But you have time to talk with Hufflepuffs."

"Huh?" Harry was perplexed.

"That Abbott girl. You spent nearly ten minutes working with her tonight, but you didn't even say a word to me."

"You were doing well. Hannah needed the help."

"So you thought you could just ignore me?"

"I wasn't ignoring you." Harry was starting to feel very frustrated. No matter what he said, Laine took it the wrong way.

"So I didn't need special help. Does that mean you couldn't pretend a little?"

"There's only so much of me to go around. I didn't get to help some people tonight who really could have used it. Like I said, you were doing great."

"And Hannah wasn't. I heard you. Is that why you felt it necessary to hold hands with her?"

"Hold hands? I was correcting her grip and showing her the proper wand motion."

"Is that how you help the boys?"

Without waiting for an answer, Laine walked away. She, Ginny, and the other fourth years exited the hall.

Harry stared after them in abject confusion. He truly didn't understand what Laine was so upset about.

"Hey, mate, shall we head down?" Draco said.

"Yeah, I guess so."

His mind troubled, Harry could not do any homework, and he played cards in the common room, hoping that Laine would pass through so they could talk. The Marauder's Map said she was in the dormitory, and that's where she stayed all night.

Harry turned to his best mate as they got ready for bed. "Draco, do you have any idea what might be up with Laine?" He briefly sketched in their recent conflicts.

"She's mental."

"That's not helpful."

"I mean it. All girls are mental. What she's doing makes perfect sense to her and her alone. Go with it."

"I just want things to go back to normal."

"You're better off breaking up with her."

"What?"

"You were too distracted to work on your Transfiguration essay, and it's due Monday. If she's a distraction, she's got to go."

After a sleep troubled by strange dreams (nothing Voldemort-related so far as he could tell), Harry was groggy the next day. He poked at his breakfast and poured himself a cup of strong coffee.

"Want to get going on that Transfiguration?" Daphne suggested, pouring a second cup.

"Absolutely," he replied. "Pansy, what about it?"

"I haven't started yet. Sure."

"I'm in too," Tracy said.

"Bother," said Draco. "I finished it last night."

"Then we can check our answers with you," Harry teased.

"More like I need to check mine against yours."

The fourth years arrived at that moment, and Laine came up to Harry.

"Can we talk?"

"Sure." Harry looked at the others. "I'll be right there."

"Sounds good," Tracy replied. "We'll see you there."

The tentative smile on Laine's face melted away into a dark frown.

"What does _she_ want?"

"We're going to do homework in the library."

"What sort of homework?"

"Transfiguration. Old McGonagall's essay is taking forever."

"I thought none of you were talking to her. Since when are you study buddies?"

"Tracy's still my friend. She's over her crush on me, and things are getting back to normal."

"Normal." The way Laine said the word, it seemed almost poisonous.

"Yeah. In my first year, she was one of my best friends. I'm glad she's come back around."

"Well fine!" Laine exploded. "Go study the blonde! I don't care!"

Laine stormed away, her robes flowing behind her. Harry watched her go, dumbly wondering what he could possibly have said to set her off.

Once again Harry was bothered and unable to concentrate. He kept mixing up Gamp's Laws and crumpled a dozen parchments before giving the whole thing up as a wash and returning to the dormitory.

"Sirius Black!" he called into the mirror.

"Harry Potter! How's it going, kiddo? Is everything okay?"

"Why do you ask?"

"It's a bit early for you to call. I usually don't expect you until after dinner at the earliest."

"I've just got a lot on my mind right now and can't focus."

"What is it? How can I help?"

"It's Laine. I'm not sure why, but she seems mad at me. I told you how she's been getting tetchy about my free time, and it's only gotten worse. Now she thinks I'm flirting with other girls. I was helping Hannah Abbott out at the duelling club last night, and Laine accused me of holding hands with her. Then this morning she flipped because Tracy was part of a study session."

"Jealous?"

"Maybe, but it's so stupid. She _knows_ I don't have any feelings for Tracy. I've told her so a hundred times."

"Maybe she knows it in her head but not her heart. Maybe the strain of not getting to spend much time with you is finally getting to her."

"So what do I do?"

"Talk to her. Privately and without yelling. Don't let her yell either. Get down to the root of what's bothering her."

"And then?"

"Then you do your best to work it out. Just remember that it might end badly."

Sirius was now the second person to suggest that Harry might have to break up with Laine. The very idea made the pit of his stomach drop out. The thought of losing the comfort of their admitedly low-key relationship was emotionally wrenching. He definitely didn't want that to happen.

Harry changed the subject.

"So I was wondering what the arrangements are for tomorrow night. I really want to sneak out of school and be with you and Moony."

"We want that as well; however, I don't think you should this time."

"Why not?"

"You said yourself that you've been stretched thin lately. You do have classes the next day."

"Nothing important."

"I would hardly call three double lessons unimportant. One of those is Defence, is it not?"

"Yes."

"It would never do for the Duelling Captain to fall asleep in Defence."

"I could take some Wideye Potion. Some of the seventh years have a fool-proof recipe."

"I'd rather not see you resort to that. We'll be fine, Chitter. Moony's a tough old wolf."

"I know," Harry said wistfully. "I just-"

"I know," Sirius said soothingly. "We want you there too, but not at the expense of your marks. There'll be other moons. April's is right before Easter break, but May and June fall on weekends."

"I don't want to wait two whole months."

"Look at the upside. At least you get a week off next month."

"I can't wait."

"I can't wait to get you home, kiddo. I promise, we'll go all over London on the motorbike."

Riding with Sirius was even better than flying on a broom, and Harry absolutely loved to fly.

"No bedtime?"

Sirius laughed. "No bedtime. We'll stay out until dawn if you want."

Feeling immensely better, Harry bid his godfather goodnight and considered trying his homework again. If there was anything to ruin his good mood, it was essays for McGonagall. He reached not for quill and ink but for wand and weights. He'd been neglecting his lifting lately, and the physical task reminded him of the summer with Sirius.

"Merlin, this studying is about to drive me wonky," he complained. "I don't even remember the last time I relaxed when it wasn't on a schedule."

"We've got to keep studying," Draco said. "The OWLs are in only two months. We're not ready. We've all fallen behind."

"Tell me about it. I've got the essays for Snape and McGonagall to do more than start, Flitwick's reading, and I'm not going to get to any of it unless I skip the prefect meeting and Quidditch practice."

"Bletchley will kill you if you skip practice."

"No he won't. He needs me to save his arse and the Quidditch Cup."

"But he can make life uncomfortable for you. He certainly does for us."

"I'm the Seeker. All he can do is tell me to go catch it, which I always do."

* * *

The chance to talk with Laine didn't present itself until Monday morning. If he were being honest with himself, Harry knew he was avoiding her in the common room because he had no clue how to broach such a sensitive subject.

Harry emerged from the dormitory to find Laine waiting for him by the fireplace. Given how explosive things had been with her, he was wary as he approached.

"Hi," he said, trying to sound casual.

"Hi."

"Sleep well?"

"Fine, thanks. Harry, I'm so sorry about my behaviour over the weekend. I don't know what came over me. I haven't spent enough time with you lately, and I guess I got a little jealous. I've been under a lot of stress lately between trying to keep my marks up in Charms and Herbology, and apparently I decided to take it out on you. That's not fair, and I'm sorry."

Harry smiled gratefully. "Apology accepted. Why didn't you tell me you were having trouble? I'm not a whiz at Charms or Herbology, but I have studied the material before."

"I don't know, and I don't know why I'm so stressed. You're the one with nasty exams in a few months."

"Ordinary exams," he corrected her. "The nasty ones aren't for another two years."

Laine giggled at his lame joke and kissed him briefly. "Shall we head to breakfast?"

Everything was all right again. Harry studied in the common room near Laine until it was time for his Occlumency lesson.

"Where are you off to?"

"Professor Snape wants to see me."

"You see him quite often."

"Prefect business." He hated lying to Laine, but it was necessary.

"See if you can get him to give you a few hints about tomorrow's lesson."

"I'll try."

"Bye."

"Bye."

Harry had gotten quite good at keeping Professor Snape from breaking into his mind with a frontal assault. Every little bit of success was met with a more difficult challenge.

" _Legilimens!_ "

The first probe seemed to come from behind. Harry had already begun to rush his defences forward and got caught out when his shield was torn to tatters in an instant.

Harry reordered his thoughts, pushing Snape out of his psyche.

The attacks came from all angles. Harry never knew what to expect next. He had to react quicker, strike harder and faster.

Harry blocked three attacks in a row, and Snape called a halt.

"Good. Better." Praise from Professor Snape was rare indeed, so Harry practically beamed with pleasure -- or would have had his head not ached so abominably.

"At last you have figured out how to keep me from breaking in at all. The mental pattern of resistance is nearly instantaneous."

"Thank you, sir. I can't believe I can actually keep you out."

"Believe it, Mister Potter. You've done quite well, all things considered."

"I guess it was like every other skill: lots of practice required."

"Most correct. You are almost there. I have a few things left to teach you, but after that there will be only endurance to build."

"When do I get to face the Headmaster, sir?"

"Very soon. Perhaps as soon as next month."

"I hope so, sir."

"You are eager to master the skill. It is a pleasure to teach one so willing to learn."

Snape didn't offer him any tea after the lesson, so Harry went back to the common room to find everyone already in the dormitories. Harry thought this quite the capital idea and likewise began getting ready for bed. 

Draco glanced up as he entered.

"Evening. How is old Snape?"

"Very Snape-ish. Anything exciting happen while I was gone?"

"Nothing overly so. Lucas and Arcen got into a spat about which one had dibs on Ginny, but she shut them both down."

"Speaking of Ginny, how goes your campaign to date her?"

"Progressing slowly. She still doesn't think I'm at all serious about it."

"And what of Hannah? Weren't you going to chat her up to show Ginny how sensitive you are?"

"She started walking out with Corner from Ravenclaw."

"I don't know him."

"He's in our year, has dark hair. He's quiet, you know?"

Try as he might, Harry couldn't call Corner's face to mind -- which was pretty embarassing considering he'd had Herbology with the boy twice a week for four and a half years now.

"Good for her. I hope he treats her well."

Zabini was not preparing for bed. He was at his desk, quill scratching quickly. He glanced over.

"Hair, are you and Dray going to keep talking about girls? I'll take my work back out to the common room if that's the case."

"Nah," Harry said with a yawn. "I'm done in, Laze. Goodnight, all."


	22. Easter Sacrifice

April was starting off miserably, so far as the weather was concerned. The spring rain fell for days during the end of March, wiping out the last traces of snow on the castle grounds. Harry supposed it was just as well that the seasons were moving on, but a week of rain without even seeing the sun seemed a bit excessive.

Quidditch practice in the rain wasn't much fun. Bletchley's favourite form of practice was still the scrimmage against the reserves, who were finally starting to resemble real Quidditch players. While he was careful to never give too much praise, he expressed half-confidence that they might not be entirely hopeless.

Hufflepuff had stomped on Gryffindor, but Weasley had caught the snitch, winning 370-300. Harry knew Bletchley had tallied the points many times, and even with the win against Ravenclaw, Gryffindor would have to lose to Ravenclaw by a considerable margin if Slytherin was to hold on to the Quidditch Cup. With Weasley and his Cleansweep 11 playing Seeker, the odds were near-insurmountable.

When it was raining, he couldn't go out on the battlements with Laine. Of course, because of the sheer time it took to get up to the battlements in the first place, Harry hadn't taken her out there since last November. Now they customarily strolled the dungeons. If Laine wondered at the change, she never mentioned it.

His relationship with Laine had become a bit more stressful these days. While his schedule hadn't changed, she often asked where he had been, what he'd been doing, and with whom he'd been doing it. Her sudden need to know was a bit puzzling, but Sirius had said that girls sometimes got jealous ideas about absolutely nothing, so he paid it no mind.

He tried to make an effort to spend more time with Laine, but often he felt stretched so thinly that a good Lumos would shine through him. With all of his responsibilities, it was just too much. Harry was starting to crack.

Diggory's prefect meetings were one of the first things that Harry started skivving out on. The sixth years usually showed up, but the fifth and seventh years came to only half of the meetings. At least two prefects from each house and at least ten in total were required for a quorum. Proxy voting was not allowed.

Meetings or not, he did still have to patrol twice a week. There was seldom anything more exciting than a student late on the way back from the library, but David Palce caught Fred Weasley and Alicia Spinnet sneaking in from the greenhouses only two days prior.

Harry's patrol had fallen on the night of the full moon. No one had been willing to trade shifts, so there was no question of sneaking out of the castle himself, even if he hadn't had classes the next day. He did his best to be with the Marauders in spirit, but it was impossible to change his form without letting Pansy in on the secret.

They had split up so as to cover ground more quickly, and Harry was just beginning to scout down the corridor leading out to the aforementioned greenhouses when he heard spellwork being performed. It sounded like curses and hexes. Harry flashed into the form of his mongoose and followed the sound.

Once up on the first floor, Harry changed back. The noises were coming from the electives corridor, where Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, and Muggle Studies were taught. He drew his wand and scouted closer.

Around the corner, he found a Hufflepuff and a Gryffindor duelling. They were trading spells furiously, and Harry could easily see the mutual anger. He had to step in before one of them got hurt.

" _Expelliarmus!_ " he cast, using a sweeping wand motion. Both of the wands popped into the air, and he let them clatter to the floor. The two boys turned to face him, grim expressions on their faces.

"Duelling outside of the Ministry Youth meetings is forbidden," Harry said icily. They were both older than him, but he was a prefect and the Duelling Captain. He could take charge of this situation. "What is the meaning of this, Hooper? Summers? You're both members and know better."

"Captain Potter," Hooper, the Gryffindor, said, looking very ashamed of being caught.

Harry gave them his best Professor Snape glare and tried to imagine what he would say in this situation.

"Ten points each for being out after curfew, twenty points for duelling without sanction, and I think a detention is in order as well. I will inform Professor Umbridge and let her decide the particulars. Now, pick up your wands and march yourselves to the Great Hall."

The two sixth years looked at each other uneasily.

"Captain?" said Summers.

"You want to duel so badly that you'll sneak out after curfew. Something couldn't wait until the next meeting of the youth club. Very well. You're going to settle things now, under supervision and sanction, and then we're all going back to bed. Now march!"

The older students retrieved their wands and followed Harry's urging down to the Great Hall. They encountered Pansy in the entrance hall, and she queried Harry with a single glance.

"Unauthorized duelling," he answered. "We're about to settle it if you'd care to watch."

"Sounds delightful."

Harry banished the house tables to the far walls and conjured himself and Pansy some comfortable chairs.

"Begin."

As the two sixth years duelled, Harry made mental notes to critique them later.

"What's all this, then?" demanded a gravelly voice.

Mr. Filch, the caretaker, stood there looking outraged. Mrs. Norris sat primly at his feet. Harry knew she must have discovered the duelling and fetched the old man immediately.

Harry rose to his feet and calmly walked over.

"Good evening, Mister Filch. Everything is under control. There's no cause for alarm."

"Four students out of bed. Dear, oh dear. The headmaster won't be happy to hear about it. It'll be detention for the lot of yeh."

"As I said, Mister Filch, everything is under control. We are prefects and discovered these two out after curfew. I insisted that they finish their business before we all went back to bed."

"Those two are duelling! That's against the rules, that is."

"In addition to being a prefect, I also hold the position of Duelling Captain. As such, I have authorized and sanctioned this duel. There is no rule-breaking going on here."

Filch glowered at Harry, and Harry noticed for the first time that he was actually taller than the hunched, unpleasant man.

"Your services are not required here, Mister Filch. Good night to you."

Now Filch looked really upset, but there was nothing he could do about it. As a prefect, Harry was within his rights to be out after curfew. As captain, he had the authority to sanction a duel. Try though he might, Filch didn't have a leg to stand on. He stomped away, Mrs. Norris hot on his heels.

Harry glanced back at the duellers, who had stopped fighting to witness the exchange with Filch.

"What are you two looking at? Finish up! I want to go to bed."

* * *

The tale was the only topic of conversation at breakfast.

Professor Umbridge appeared to be waiting for him. She came by to see him right away when he entered the hall.

"Captain Potter, I was most surprised to see your report on my desk this morning. The details are fascinating, and I applaud your quick thinking. I wonder if you might have some input as to the appropriate detention. Your additional punishment for Hooper was very creative. Take ten points for that."

After Summers had disarmed Hooper, Harry had given the Gryffindor one hundred lines: "I will not duel without sanction."

"Thank you, Professor."

"Well?"

"Perhaps a few nights of working with Mister Filch? I know he'd love to string them up by their thumbs in the dungeons, but that might be a bit much."

"I will consider it. I may simply assign a few hundred lines. Repetition of a positive message will eventually sink in."

"Very good, Professor."

"Keep up the good work."

"Yes, ma'am."

Umbridge headed up to the high table.

"Well done, Harry," Pansy said admiringly. "Nice to get points for doing your duty."

"I'll say," Daphne poking Harry on the shoulder. "What made you think to make them finish the duel?"

"I needed some entertainment," he said flippantly. "Wasn't it delightful, Pansy?"

"Most certainly. I particularly enjoyed the part where Hooper turned the high table into a rhinocerous."

Laine sat next to him laughing and joking with everyone as Pansy described the duel in exqusite detail. Harry filled in a few points, but Pansy had been born to talk and tell stories. 

Ginny, sitting next to Laine, was paying rapt attention. She grasped her fork like a wand and made the motions for each spell Pansy described. Harry was pleased to see that she had them all right.

Draco sat across the table from Harry, but he was keeping his eyes on Ginny. He laughed whenever she made a witty comment. He directed the conversation to her, bringing her into the discussion. Ginny looked a little skeptical of Draco's attentions, but she didn't exactly discourage him either.

Harry's favorite breakfast foods were on the table. He took a double helping of everything and tried to eat both quickly and neatly. He was only moderately successful in that regard.

He was very thankful that it was the last day of classes before the holiday. With all the studying, the meetings, the practices, and trying to find time to spend with his girlfriend, he felt run ragged. The break would be most welcome.

It had been too long since he'd seen Sirius. He couldn't wait to go zooming around the streets of London on the motorbike. Harry knew that Muggles let one drive at age 16, and he was nearly there. He planned to ask Sirius if he could apply for a permit and purchase a bike for himself. Then they'd have lots of fun modifying it with all the special charms. After that, the sky would be the limit!

The weather had finally broken. The ceiling in the Great Hall was a brilliant blue, with the barest hint of clouds. The sun was already shining strong, and part of Harry longed to ditch classes and go outside.

_Actually, it's a free right after breakfast._

Harry glanced over at Draco.

"Care to have a stroll outside instead of hitting the books?"

Draco considered the question briefly. "Sounds delightful. I'm actually caught up at the moment, so yes."

Harry looked down the table. "Anyone else?"

"I'm in," said Daphne, Pansy, and Tracy, who weren't taking Care of Magical Creatures.

Millie looked disappointed. "Why can't it be nice out when it's Muggle Studies?"

Laine pouted. "I wish I had a free in the morning."

"Sorry, Laine. I'll bring you back some sunshine and fresh air."

She didn't smile at his joke. Harry got a bit nervous then.

_What if she gets mad about this?_

Everyone else was laughing and talking excitedly about the break, but Harry focused on Laine. Her lower lip jutted out slightly, and her eyes were simmering. Her nose crinkled a bit, and she took a deep breath. She let it out slowly, swallowed her irritation, faked a smile, and shook her head.

"I hope you can."

Her voice sounded cheery, but Harry couldn't quite tell how sincere she was being.

Deciding to give her the benefit of the doubt, Harry kissed her cheek gently. "I do wish you could come too. Meeting tonight, but maybe we can have a more private walk later on."

"That would be very nice. After the meeting? Better not work us over too much."

"I won't."

The sunshine did indeed feel magnificent on Harry's face. The air was a bit brisk if the wind picked up too much, but it was otherwise blissful. The stress seemed to simply melt away from him. The certainty that warmer weather was coming cheered him immensely. At last they would be able to have the occasional outdoors study session. The change of scene would do wonders for their spirits.

The bell rang, and a crowd of Slytherin firsties erupted from the greenhouse. Harry waved to them and saw Pamela Ruthven smile at him. They had no time to talk, but the girls put their heads together and began to giggle.

The fifth years basked outside the greenhouses until it was time for Herbology. When the Ravenclaws arrived, they kept their distance but did pause to enjoy a brief moment before heading inside.

"Shall we?" Harry suggested.

"Can we ask Sprout to hold lecture out here instead?" Daphne said.

Herbology was review, it being the last day of the term. They were also assigned a ream of homework. Every other teacher had done the same, but Harry couldn't be bothered by it today.

Harry did not actually have a way to bring warmth and sunshine to Laine (other than showing her a memory in the Pensieve). He settled for kissing her lips and pouring her a glass of pumpkin juice at lunch.

Draco continued to engage Ginny in conversation, and now she looked even less certain of herself. Her retorts lacked the usual zip.

Double Ancient Runes was spent going over the last exam, and no homework was given, making Harry praise Professor Babbling all the way to Astronomy.

"It figures," Sinistra said ruefully, "that the weather breaks precisely when you all will be leaving. I want you to watch the skies every night. I will quiz you on your observations on our first meeting after the break."

Then they were free, and everyone's books were packed away in their trunks. They headed up to dinner in good cheer.

Harry deliberately sat himself at the end of the empty block left for the fifth years at the Slytherin table. The seat was next to Laine, who smiled prettily at him. Ginny was on her left, with Arcen and Lucas across, and the other fourth years further down.

"Hello, Harry. How were your classes today? McGonagall sprung a pop quiz on _us_ , and I think I did horribly. I _knew_ I should have studied Transfiguration, but I wanted to read up on antidotes. Professor Snape is hinting he might poison one of the Gryffindors, and I want to be ready if he calls on me to save him."

Harry ignored all of that jabber. "Hi, Laine. Classes were decent. So glad to be on holiday at last."

"Oh, I know. Who do you want to sit with on the train?

Before Harry could answer, he was distracted by a black bird that might have been a raven, a crow, or a magpie (Harry wasn't up on his bird-watching) flying into the Great Hall and heading for the Slytherin table. It bore a scroll of black parchment tied to its leg with a black ribbon.

It landed in front of Draco.

"Who the heck is sending that?"

Draco slipped the parchment out of the ribbon and pinned one edge under his glass of pumkin juice while he unrolled it with his left hand. He continued to eat using his right until he dropped his fork with a clatter, sending mashed potatoes everywhere.

"What is it, Draco?"

"Nothing. Just V-v-voldemort telling me he has my brother."

"What!"

"Keep your voice down, please."

"What else does he say?"

"Nothing. Just promises to be in touch. Oh, I can't wait to see what he wants me to do."

"We knew this could happen sooner or later."

"He was supposed to stay at the sodding house!" Draco snarled. "How in Merlin's name did they get him?"

Across the Great Hall, another black bird was delivering another scroll of parchment. A shout of outrage was quickly joined by two other voices. The three Weasley brothers stormed up to the high table. Professor McGonagall, clearly alarmed at seeing any of her house so upset, ushered them through a side door.

"You don't suppose?" Harry said speculatively, inclining his head towards the trio of redheads. "Elan and Percy are pretty close. Would he have made a secret plan with ole Perce?"

"He might have. He was so bored, so desperate to get out of the house. We'll know soon enough. Here comes McGonagall. If she starts walking over here to- yep, here she comes to tell Ginny. Percy's been taken too."

Draco was remarkably calm. His voice was almost analytical, as though he weren't really here. Shocked, Harry thought. He must be really hovering above this scene right now, his brain accessible but not working properly.

Ginny choked off a wail that nearly broke Harry's heart. She and Percy were very close, him being the one brother who'd never rejected her in some degree for going over to the green team. She buried her head in Laine's shoulder and hid her sobs. Professor McGonagall looked like she very much wanted to comfort Ginny, but after exchanging a glance with Laine, headed back to the high table where she had a whispered conversation with Dumbledore.

Draco stood up and moved around the table. He gestured tersely to Lucas and squeezed in next to Ginny. He put his hand on her shoulder. He said something softly, and her head jerked up sharply. She said something in response, and Draco nodded his head. He said something else, and suddenly her eyes filled with tears again. She reached for Draco, and he wrapped his arms around her. He rested his head on hers and began to stroke her back with one hand.

"Now there's something I thought I'd never see," Daphne said in a whisper.

"No kidding," breathed Pansy.

"What the heck is going on?" Tracy whispered.

"Elan and Percy have been kidnapped," Harry replied, keeping his voice down. "Voldemort's got them in the old prison."

The three girls gasped.

Harry didn't know what to say. Draco was leading Ginny, accompanied by Laine, Lucas, and Arcen from the Great Hall. Ignoring the rest of his dinner, he rose to follow.

Without a word or sound other than the fall of their footsteps and Ginny's sniffles, the Slytherins descended into the dungeons. In the common room, they passed right by the inviting chairs and couches and went directly into the corridor where the girls' dormitories were. In through the door with the plaque reading 'Fourth Years', and Laine turned to Arcen and Lucas.

"Thanks, guys. We've got this."

Arcen started to go, but Laine had to stare Lucas down. He finally walked away as well, grumbling to himself. Laine closed the door.

Draco sat Ginny down on her bed. She looked around at Harry and Laine and back at Draco.

"Thank you. I'm okay now."

"Like hell you are," Draco said, "because I'm nowhere near okay right now. We're going to get through this. We'll get them back."

"How?"

"Somehow. We're Slytherins. Let's make a plan. How about I start by writing my father and asking what's going to be done? He is a powerful man, my father. The Ministry will not let the Director of International Magical Cooperation be abducted and not do a thing about it. The Aurors will rescue them, we'll yell at them for being so inconsiderately stupid as to get themselves abducted, and we'll all go home under the Fidelius Charm and be safe and secure again."

"Sounds wonderful," Ginny said. "Bill put that on the Burrow last summer when he came home unexpectedly. He was about to head to France to meet up with a new employee at Gringotts when the news broke of Voldemort being back. He asked for a delay, came home, and he made sure we had the best protections he knew how to cast."

"Did he ever make it to France?"

"Nope. Too bad. He says it's this pretty blonde girl. I think he might have liked her, but she's got every guy in the office wrapped around her little finger. He thinks she's wicked stuck-up."

"Well if Bill put the protections up, then the rest of your family has got to be fine. I'm sure they'll be waiting at the train station, and they'll be very glad to see you."

"Bunch of gits," she said with a sniffle.

"Yes, they are, but they're family. That's what family is sometimes, and we're going to see ours tomorrow."

Ginny let out the yawn she'd been fighting back.

"I am exhausted."

"Get some sleep, and we'll see you in the morning for breakfast. Laine, make sure you pack everything for her."

"No problem, Draco."

"Good night, Ginny."

"G'nite. Thanks, Draco. You too, Harry."

"Good night, Ginny," Harry said. He leaned over and gave her a hug. She squeezed him hard. He ruffled her hair, and she summoned up a bit of a spirited protest. He grinned at her.

"It's gonna be okay."

Ginny bit her lip. "I hope so."

Harry closed the door behind them, and Draco led him to their room. He dumped out his bookbag, thrust a few essentials in, and turned to Harry.

"Let's go."

"Where are we going?"

"To Malfoy Manor. My mother must be in pieces by now."

"Would she be at my house?"

"She might be. We'll try both."

Harry and Draco headed back up into the castle.

"How are we going to get off the grounds?"

"Shrieking Shack."

"Perfect."

They slipped through the front door and hurried down to the Whomping Willow, where Harry levitated a short stick in order to press the knot that immobilized the tree. He and Draco hurried into the tunnel and made their way to the building at the end, which still had some remnants of Harry's birthday party.

"Let's go," Draco said shortly.

"I just want to be sure this is a good idea. London is pretty far, and Wiltshire a bit moreso."

"I have to go. I've never been more determined."

"You're pretty riled up, though. Mental agitation can affect your magic in very bad ways. I've got a good method for clearing your thoughts if you want to give it a go."

Draco suddenly looked afraid. "I have no desire to get Splinched again. If we guess wrong, there'll be no one to fix us. Best go to your house."

"Can we go that far? Do you have a clear enough picture?"

"I don't know. I did it at Christmas, but I haven't had a chance to practice lately. This might not be the best idea."

"You couldn't have thought of this before we rushed out here against the rules?"

Draco didn't bat an eye at the verbal dig. "In crisis, the family must come together. I wonder if I couldn't make it a series of short hops."

"You'd need to have clear images of the places in-between."

"Damn!"

"What the devil is going on here?" demanded an icy voice.

Harry turned with dread to see their Head of House standing there with arms folded imposingly before him. The look on his face could have melted stone.

"Professor! We were just- that is, I- I-"

"Mister Potter, you are a prefect. Unless you tell me that you are preventing Mister Malfoy from leaving school without permission, I shall be forced to assume that you were also intending to sneak out. A prefect would never so flagrantly flaunt the rules in such a fashion."

Harry cast an agonized glance at Draco, who nodded.

"That's exactly right, Professor," Draco said.

"If you go directly back to the castle, I shall ignore this unauthorized excursion and attribute your lack of clear thinking to emotional distress."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

Draco headed for the tunnel. Harry stayed for a moment.

"Professor, what do we do about Elan and Percy?"

"We rescue them, if we can. If they were taken to the old prison, they will never be the same again. They may die. I will try to help them as best I can when next I am summoned."

"Thank you. I know it's a risk."

"We do what we can, Mister Potter. No more, and no less."

* * *

The next day, Harry tried to avoid him, but Ron Weasley forced a confrontation down by the train platform. His brothers, the twins, were with him. All wore very unpleasant frowns on their faces. They didn't seem to have slept much.

"Oh good," Ron said sarcastically. "The Junior Death Eater club is here. Wouldn't do to ride the train without _them_. Otherwise the big boys might decide attacking the train is a good idea. It wouldn't do to put their own family at risk too. How many of that lot you think have dads who are Death Eaters, Fred?"

"Oh, at least four. Maybe as many as six."

"You lot are the biggest morons," Harry said with exasperation. "Voldemort killed my family."

"Oh, I'm pretty convinced you're not on his side," Ron replied easily. "Doesn't mean you're not surrounded by Dark companions and Darker than Grindelwald yourself. But these other sods? Heck, I know Malfoy right off the bat is the son of a Death Eater. Crabbe's father is in Ministry lock-up, and Goyle is half as ugly and twice as stupid. Nott as well, though I hear he's out of the picture. Always knew you were a bunch of murdering maniacs."

"What are you on about?"

"Don't pretend like you don't know. I hear things," Ron said airily.

He spoke with such certainty that Harry didn't even try to deny it.

"We're all against Voldemort here, Weasley."

The other boy flinched. "Only because you're going to become even worse than he is."

"We're on the same side as your precious Dumbledore. Your brother's side too, you know."

Ron looked at Harry with undisguised hatred. "It's all your fault. If he hadn't been mixed up with Slytherins, he wouldn't be dead!" he bellowed. "You killed him, you bleeding bunch of snakes! You killed my brother!"

"That's enough," Fred said in a weak tone, stepping over and taking his brother by the shoulders. "They'll get their due in time."

"Shut up, Ron!" Ginny screamed. "You hated Percy! Don't you dare try to pretend that you care about what happens to him!"

Ron was pale. "Just because he's a stupid tosser doesn't mean I don't care what happens to him," he whispered.

"I'm the only one who ever gave a damn about him. Sometimes, anyway. More lately, but you never liked him. Always making fun of him, calling him Big Head and other garbage like that."

"You laughed at it too, Gin," Fred said.

"Maybe a few times, but you two never know when to lay off, do you? You just keep pushing and pushing until someone snaps and does something drastic. Well how's this?"

With a flick of her wrist and a silent wave of her wand, all three brothers were suddenly being attacked by giant, bat-winged boogies that emerged from their noses.

The oaths and swears they uttered were not fit for polite company, but the sister appeared unimpressed as they ran off down the platform.

"Don't miss the train!" she called after them.

"Well done, Ginny," said a grown-up voice from nearby.

"Sirius!" Harry ran to give his godfather a hug. "What are you doing here?"

"Giving you a ride home, of course."

A ride on the motorbike? Fantastic.

"I wish I could get home so fast," Ginny said ruefully.

"I'll be in touch over the break," Harry promised.

"Thanks. Bye, Harry. Bye, Draco."

"Bye, Ginny," Harry replied.

Draco said nothing, but he stepped forward and hugged her tightly. She squeezed him back before boarding the train.

"Come on, you two."

"Is there room on the motorbike for two?" Harry asked as they walked towards the village.

"No. We'll step around the corner once the platform clears a bit and Apparate."

"Fine. We would have done it ourselves last night, but we were worried about Splinching."

"In your current state, I think that's a very smart decision."

"And we got caught by Professor Snape."

They appeared in the hall of Grimmauld Place. Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy were waiting for them. Both wore deepest black, and they held hands as though to keep from being torn apart.

Draco's brave façade lasted for precisely two seconds. He immediately went to his parents and was enveloped in a desperate hug. He broke down, sobbing desperately for the older brother he idolized.

Mrs. Malfoy was composed. She had dark circles under her eyes, but she didn't seem on the verge of collapse. She rocked Draco gently, comforting as only a mother could do.

Mr. Malfoy's cheeks were wet. He looked haggard, as though he hadn't been sleeping. His shoulders were slumped and shaking as he held his incomplete family close. He had never before seemed vulnerable to Harry, and to see the powerful man so lost shook Harry to his core.

This moment was far too private for Harry to intrude. The family needed each other. He drew back towards the dining room with Sirius.

Without words, Sirius wrapped him in a tight hug. Harry squeezed back as much as he could.

"I can't even imagine their pain," Harry said softly.

"The loss of a child is most keen. No parent should have to suffer it. I may have hated my parents and everything they stood for, but they loved my brother, and when he was killed, it was as though this void opened in their lives. Every conversation with them after that ended in a row. They usually did anyway, but now it was all the time, and the words were a lot more hurtful."

"What can we do for them?"

"They will not ask for our help. They're too proud for that. As to what you can do, simply be a friend as you would normally be. If you feel the urge to offer comfort or support, then do so. I know it will be welcomed."

Harry knew that would have to be the best he could do.

"And what about getting Percy and Elan back?"

"There's an Order meeting on Monday. I'll make sure we bring it up."

"I've almost got the hang of this Occlumency thing. Then I can sit in on the meetings openly."

Out in the hallway, the Malfoys had finished their immediate sobbing. Harry heard them ascend the stairs.

"I think dinner will be small and private tonight," Sirius said. "Kreacher!"

The house elf appeared with a bang and bowed low.

"Kreacher is here, Master."

"The Malfoys will want dinner in their rooms tonight. Harry and I will take our meal in the drawing room after you've seen to them. Light the fire now, please."

"Kreacher obeys!"

"Shall we head up now?" Sirius said.

"Sure. Do you want to listen to the wireless or something?"

"That would be very nice. Anything to distract from those holiday assignments, right?"

With all the fuss lately, Harry hadn't given much thought to his classwork. How was he supposed to get anything done with loved ones in danger?

It was a question which Harry had no answer for, but he was determined to try. He brought his homework to the drawing room, flipped open his Transfiguration text, and began reading. He readied a quill to jot down some notes, but not a minute later he threw it down in frustration. Ink spattered a few drops on his skin, but he didn't care.

"Problem?"

"How am I supposed to concentrate when my friends are in mortal peril? How can I study when I know this is my fault?"

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think this has anything to do with you? You're important, kiddo, but you're not the centre of everything."

"Elan and Percy are upstanding chaps who had the misfortune of becoming close to me. Voldemort wants to kill me, so anything he can do to hurt me is a great idea."

"That's pretty arrogant, Harry. They are also two influential wizards who are attempting to rally the public against Voldemort. Percy is Director of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, and he's been doing his very best to drum up support for the war effort from the rest of the continent. Elan is very influential in wizarding society at large, and his efforts to persuade the British public to support the Ministry have been invaluable."

Harry knew that his godfather spoke the truth, but he still somehow felt responsible. Sirius' logic was solid, but a part of him wanted to keep arguing. One thing he did know for certain was that trying to do homework was doomed to failure.

He waved his wand and turned on the wireless.

"So this is the drawing room. Does anyone ever actually draw in a room like this?"

Sirius forced a small chuckle. "It's quite the story, I tell you. Aunt Druella laid into me something fierce when I asked that very same question, though I may have said it with a good deal more sass."

* * *

Easter dinner was served at precisely noon the next day.

Harry and Sirius found the Malfoys already waiting for them in the dining room. They still wore deepest black. Mrs. Malfoy alone seemed alert. Her husband and son were very subdued.

"Sirius, there you are. Let us sit."

The table was groaning with the sheer weight of food. A ham as large as a dragon egg was smothered in brown sugar glaze. Steam rose from bowls of mashed potatoes with the red peels left in and great pats of butter melting into golden rivers. Maple syrup on an orange mash seemed a sweet and sticky disguise for healthy vegetables. Another orange dish was decorated with walnuts and brown sugar. A dozen types of bread and rolls and pastries was too many to choose from.

"My, Kreacher has outdone himself," Mrs. Malfoy said.

Harry saw the curtain twitch.

"It all looks delicious," he said.

The Malfoys bowed their heads for a few moments. Sirius, who had been reaching for a serving spoon, hesitated before doing the same. Harry, followed suit, not really knowing what to do. He supposed they were taking a moment to think of Elan and acknowledge his absence.

He knew that in the Weasley home, the Burrow, there would also be bowed heads and silent prayers. Percy was missed just as sorely as Elan. Some of them had likely parted ways in anger, with harsh words spoken, that had to be rancoring even harder.

They would be rescued. Somehow, Harry knew they'd find a way to break into Azkaban. Professor Snape had promised that he would to whatever he could for the boys.

"Well, let's eat," Mrs. Malfoy said.

"Is this everyone?" Harry asked.

"It is."

"Where are the Tonkses?"

"It was Ted's turn for Easter with his family this year. He and Andi have gone to the country. Nymphadora is working."

"Have you even told her yet?" Sirius asked.

Mrs. Malfoy smiled wanly. "In good time."

Though Harry was curious as to why she hadn't told her older sister the urgent family news, the incredible smells were driving him to distraction. Harry took lots of everything.

It could have been a meal drenched in silence, with only the sound of chewing. Many people clammed up when they were in emotional distress, but the two Blacks had evidently experienced enough awkward times at the table. Sirius and Mrs. Malfoy kept the conversation going. They avoided talking about the present by remembering the past.

"Do you remember the year Uncle Alphard was disowned?" Sirius asked.

"How could I forget?" she said with a smile. "He brought his special friend to Easter, and Great-Grandmother Violetta found them together in the china closet. The shock just killed the old dear."

"I'm just impressed that something _could_. I thought she would live forever."

"She certainly tried. She was one hundred and twelve at the time."

"Do you remember that time she caught Reg and I trying to make potions with her antique Roman cauldron?"

Mrs. Malfoy laughed. "I heard about that for months."

"This will amuse you. Harry dug it out over Christmas and used it to make presents for his friends."

"He _didn't_!"

"Oh yes. Here's the kicker: Kreacher found it for him."

"No!"

"Yes."

She smiled. "Well, a cauldron should be used. To not use it denies it purpose, the purpose for which it was made. It is abuse."

Harry felt his ears getting red. "I needed a cauldron. I didn't know I shouldn't use it. Kreacher told me it was going to be thrown out otherwise."

"Well, it's yours now, Harry," Sirius said. "I hope you get lots of use out of it."

"It's good that you have skill with Potions, Harry," Mrs. Malfoy continued. "Someone needs to be able to brew the common remedies and draughts. Your godfather certainly hasn't the touch."

"It's a block on liking anything Snape thinks is a good idea."

"I'll have to make sure the girl you marry knows all the common household potions."

"I wondered how long it would be until you brought that up."

"Have you had a chance to look at the notes I left last visit?"

"No, Narcissa, I haven't."

"Why not?"

"It hasn't really been high on my priority list. Plenty of time for that when the war is over and won."

"It doesn't hurt to start looking now. Then there can be a ceremony soon after."

"Did you always know you wanted to marry Mister Malfoy?"

Mrs. Malfoy smiled. "Since the first time I met him. I was fourteen at the time, and he was a guest at my debutante party. Mother had warned me about making a proper showing in society. I was so nervous that I spilled punch on my new robes. I thought I would die of shame. Lucius saw what happened, and enchanted a daffodil out of a napkin and pinned it to my dress to hide the stain. He only saw me as a child, but it was that night that I knew someday we'd be wed."

Sirius snorted. "Lucius, I never took you for such a romantic," he jibed. 

Mr. Malfoy gave Sirius a dignified glance. "A true wizard always comes to the defense of a witch," he said haughtily, but his heart didn't seem into the retort.

Despite the succulent meal, Mr. Malfoy ate nothing. He had taken a very small amount of food, and even that was only pushed around his plate for appearances.

Sirius had watched him, even as he chattered with Mrs. Malfoy.

"How about you, Lucius? Don't make us do all the talking. Tell us a tale of Easter from your youth."

The blond man did not answer immediately. He met nobody's eyes, and his voice was low-pitched. It seemed almost as though he were speaking to himself.

"When Elan was only a babe, I knew that we had brought him into a dangerous world. If I failed my Lord, I would be punished, and I could not protect my family from his wrath. I was the best Death Eater, so as to give him no reason to judge me harshly. This risk I placed on my child. What a fool I was, how selfish we were. Yet I needed an heir. Now my family is larger. I am still helpless against his anger, and his wrath is falling on us all."

The blond man stared at his plate, his face devoid of feeling or emotion. Every so often a slight tremor in his lip betrayed the cool demeanour.

"I remember the first year of being a father. It was as though I saw the world anew through innocent eyes. It was so new, so wonderful."

The light veneer had been stripped away by Mr. Malfoy's soft words. Silence reigned for a few moments. Sirius cleared his throat.

"It'll be all right, Lucius. He's a part of some plan. They took him with purpose. We'll be able to find him and get him back."

Mr. Malfoy met Sirius' eyes, and for a long moment they stared at each other.

"I am afraid."

There was another long moment after Mr. Malfoy's admission. His wife reached out and took his hand. He squeezed it tightly, and he closed his eyes.

There was only the sound of chewing and swallowing for several moments.

Mrs. Malfoy glanced over at her youngest son. "Draco, take your elbows off the table."

He gave her a sullen look. "Why?"

"Excuse me?" Her tone could have etched glass.

"Why should I take my elbows off the table?"

She seemed slightly incredulous that he had even asked.

"I told you, for starters. Secondly, it's good table manners."

"What does that matter?"

Mrs. Malfoy glanced back at her husband for a second, but his eyes were still closed.

"Civility and manners always matter, Draco. It is what separates us from the beasts."

"What difference does it make? Elan's still going to die whether or not I put my elbows on the table."

The look that Mrs. Malfoy directed at Draco could have melted steel. He stopped talking. He pulled his elbows to his sides. He sat up straighter in his chair. She kept up the glare until he ducked his head and muttered an apology.

"I am sorry for my disrespectful behaviour, Mother. It won't happen again."

"Good."

* * *

The Order met the next day. Harry and Draco rendezvoused early, pretending to be throwing a quaffle around until it grew time. They snuck back in using a secret passage from the greenhouse to the billiard room. They didn't even fully exit before Draco went down another that led to the room where the Order was meeting.

"Voldemort's brazen strike against the Ministry cannot go unanswered. To abduct a Senior Director is something even Fudge cannot cover up."

"Lucius could," Sirius said.

"He does not wish to. His eldest son was taken as well, and he pressures Fudge tremendously to rescue the boy."

"I worry that his actions are not in the best interests of the Order,"

"Show some respect, man. You're in the man's house."

"And it makes my skin crawl every time."

"It will be a blow to morale, but we will be able to carry on."

"Before we go any further. I would like to introduce two new members." Dumbledore waved his wand and the doors opened. Mrs. Malfoy stood there with two people Harry didn't really know very well at all.

"Arthur and Molly Weasley, parents to Percy and many other wonderful children. They have been gracious enough to join our little organization."

A brown-haired woman who couldn't have been older than thirty rushed across the room and hugged Mrs. Weasley tightly. "Molly, I'm so sorry for your loss. Arthur, we're going get him back."

"Thank you. Who are you?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"Emmeline Vance. I own Emmy's Cafe."

"Oh, you're the one who took over Fortescue's place."

"Yes."

"I saw that in the Prophet. Poor Mister Fortescue. He was a prisoner just like my Percy." She sniffled. "For a while, anyway."

"Molly, don't think like that. Miss Vance, it's nice to meet you."

"Likewise. Call me Emmeline."

"Arthur."

"If we may continue," said an acid voice that Harry recognized all too well.

"Snape, play nice," Sirius warned.

"Some of us have places to be later on, Black."

"Hot date, eh, Sevvy?"

Snape's glare could have dissolved steel.


	23. The Siblings

The week of the Easter holiday was both awkward and surreal.

The Malfoys were rarely seen at the table. Mrs. Malfoy was most often seen, for she made it a point to at least break fast with the rest of the family. Mr. Malfoy spent every minute of his time with his remaining son, even to the point of helping Draco with his homework.

Harry didn't want to intrude on their time together, so he worked on his assignments alone. He would have sought out Remus, but he wasn't around much either. He often left early and got back late, engaged in secret Order missions to persuade many of his fellow werewolves to join the fight against Voldemort. When he wasn't on assignment, he spent his time with Tonks. While Harry hoped he would be successful in both regards, unfortunately it meant that Harry saw him but little and never did manage to ask him a few questions about his Astronomy and Defence assignments.

When he wasn't putting quill to parchment, Harry spent time with Sirius. They lifted weights or played cards to keep their hands busy, but best of all was the conversation. Sirius still had Marauder stories to tell, and Harry relished the opportunity to learn more about his father. He loved the time he got to spend with Sirius, just the two of them. 

Harry was thoroughly worried about Elan and Percy, but somehow he managed to get his essays completed. They were nothing spectacular, but unless the professors were feeling especially harsh, all of them would earn at least an A+.

In only a few short days, it was time to head back to school. Harry knocked on the door of Draco's guest room on Sunday morning.

"Just a minute." Draco's voice was muffled through the door. When he opened it, Harry started at how disheveled his best mate seemed. His clothes were wrinkled, his hair was limp, and he had deep bags under his eyes.

"You look like something the cat dragged in. If only the others could see you now."

"I wouldn't even care at this point." Draco let out a hopeless sigh. "Come on in."

Harry entered the room and sat down in the desk chair. Draco collapsed heavily on the bed.

"How are you, mate?"

Draco ran his fingers through his hair and laced them together at the back of his head.

"I'm scared, Harry. Really scared. I know there was always this risk, but it's still a rough bit to cope with."

"How's your mum and dad?"

"Well, Mum's been a brick through the whole thing. She's taking it much better than Father is. I swear, he's cracking. He spent all his time talking about the family legacy, and he kept offering all this wisdom."

"Like what?"

"'Trust is a commodity so precious that it is measured in drops.' Mental stuff, really."

"Surely the quality time with him was good."

"Mostly. I'm worried that he might do something crazy though."

"Like what?"

"He spent at least twenty minutes last night talking about grandchildren."

"Grandchildren?"

"Yes. He definitely wants them. I'm worried about what lengths he might go to in order to get them."

"What could he do?"

"Technically, I _am_ betrothed to Pansy. I'm still underage. So is she. If our fathers agree for us, then we'll be married."

"Who's the unlucky party who gets to tell her the good news?"

"I certainly don't want to do it. Not for all the tea in China."

"How are you supposed to make babies if the bride hates your guts?"

"I'll be sure to ask him that if he tries to go through with such an absurdity."

"You ready to go meet the train?"

"We aren't Apparating back?"

"That's what I meant. We'll Apparate into Hogsmeade and then mingle with the crowd at the platform."

"What time are we leaving?"

"Four."

"What do we do until then?"

"Let's see if you can disarm me yet."

Draco groaned.

Between duelling and weight-lifting, they managed to keep themselves occupied until lunch. After some hasty sandwiches, they grabbed hot showers and put on fresh robes. They met Sirius in the sitting room.

"Ready?" 

"Let's do it," Harry said.

They Apparated to Hogsmeade.

Harry hugged Sirius tightly.

"Take care," the older man said.

"You too."

"I love you, Harry."

Harry had never heard those words before. He'd come to accept that his parents had loved him, but in the year and more since he'd been living with his godfather, somehow the words had never been said. Tears flooded his eyes in a most unmanly fashion, and he clung to Sirius with sudden weakness in his knees.

"I love you too," he managed to choke out.

Their embrace lasted long moments, and Harry felt his composure returning.

"Bye, Sirius."

"Bye, Harry."

Harry and Draco slung their bookbags over their shoulders and began walking towards the train platform. The sun was just starting to burn the sky red, and a warm breeze rustled the branches of the trees. In the distance, they could hear the train approaching. White smoke billowed up from the valley. The red engine chugged into sight, and the brakes kicked in with a great squeal of metal on metal. When the train had come to a complete and total stop, the driver hopped out. He tapped his wand to a copper rod that ran the length of first car, and all the doors opened at once.

Harry jumped up onto the platform and began calling out instructions to the laughing students that poured out of the train cars.

"Keep it orderly now! No shoving! No dallying! No standing in doorways! Keep it moving! Everyone off the train and into the carriages!"

Harry caught a flash of red hair and turned to see Ginny and Laine step out. Laine looked beautiful. She'd curled her hair. She hadn't bothered to wear her school robes and was dressed in a tight blue number that set Harry's pulse racing.

"You greet your girl, Harry," Draco said. "I've got to greet mine."

Harry could tell from Laine's expression that she wasn't happy. He looked for the danger signs, but his girlfriend didn't look like she was ready to explode yet.

"Hi, Laine." He dropped a quick kiss on her cheek.

Her eyes flashed, and he inwardly groaned.

"So you do remember me. I was starting to wonder if you'd gotten hit with a Memory Charm. Does your owl have a broken wing?"

"What?"

"You skipped out on the train ride," she said accusingly. "Then you didn't write me or anything the whole holiday. You weren't on the train today either. Yet I know you didn't stay at school. What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Things have been kind of frantic. I've been helping Draco and his family through this difficult time. There hasn't been a lot of time for writing letters."

"That's a pathetic excuse. It doesn't take more than ten minutes to write, 'Hi, Laine. Easter isn't as fun without you. Can't wait to see you again. Love, Harry.' But apparently I'm not even worth that much effort to you."

The conversation was rapidly going downhill.

"Laine, I-"

"Don't even bother. You could have if you'd really wanted to, but I guess with you it's out of sight, out of mind."

With that last verbal jab, she whirled around, nearly whipping Harry in the face with her hair, and stormed off. She grabbed a startled Ginny's arm and dragged her along. They got into a carriage with some other fourth years and headed up to the castle.

"What did you say to her?" Draco asked.

"Nothing. She's mental."

Draco nodded.

"Harry! Over here!"

Daphne and the other fifth year Slytherin girls pushed their way through the crowds.

"Good hols?" she asked.

"Decent."

"Hey, Pansy," Draco said quietly. "Would you please join me? I've got something important to talk with you about."

Pansy seemed puzzled by the change in Draco's usual demeanour. She nodded and took his arm as he led the way to a carriage. He held the door for her, and the pair set off together.

"What's going on with them?" Daphne asked as she, Millie, and Tracy all piled into their own carriage.

"You might want to pick out some dress robes suitable for a wedding," Harry answered, joining them.

Millie looked like she might be ill.

"What, those two?" Daphne said with a giggle. "That'll be the day."

"If you say so," Harry said tantalizingly.

"What do you know, Harry?" Tracy inquired.

"I'm sure you'll find out soon enough. How was Easter, Tracy?"

"It was nice. We stayed home this year. I got to spend some time with my parents, which was nice. We didn't see much of Jamie."

"How are her Healer classes going?"

"They're keeping her busy."

"That's good."

"She seems a bit happier these days. I think she's met a boy, but she hasn't mentioned him yet."

"About time," Daphne quipped.

Tracy made a face. "Tell me about it. I'm sure she'll tell me about him in due time. She tells me everything."

"You'd better keep us informed."

"I will."

Before they could ask Daphne about her holiday, they had arrived at school.

Harry jumped out and held the door for the ladies. He saw Pansy and Draco were still talking in the entrance hall. They went inside to the Great Hall where dinner awaited them.

They sat at the first free seats they came to, and Millie's little brother made room for them without even needing to be asked.

"Hi, Harry. Good hols?"

"Not bad. You?"

"It was very educational. I don't think I've ever heard some of the swears Millie was using."

Millie was not a refined lady like Pansy. She didn't even aspire to it like Daphne and Tracy did. She cared nothing for niceties. Her language fit better in a Quidditch locker room than a tea parlour.

"Shut up, Arse. Not a word."

Arcen smiled so widely, Harry thought his face might split. "Millie, did you tell them about your debutante ball? Your dress is going to be so pretty!"

Millie's eyes narrowed. "I warned you. Anything dire that happens to you after this is not my fault."

Arcen either didn't get the hint or just didn't care. "It's cameo pink, with pink and white roses. She's going to look just like an angel. You'll all be there of course to see her dance with Viktor."

Millie, true to her word, stopped Arcen from spilling more details. She cast a spell that removed his mouth. Unable to speak, he made angry noises, but Millie simply resumed her dinner.

"A ball?" Daphne said with delight.

"Not you too!"

"Now that you're sixteen, it's only proper that you be introduced to society. I'd love it if my parents could put one together for me."

"You can have mine. I don't want it."

"Be a sport, Millie. You'll get to see _Viktor_ again."

Millie blushed near to purple.

"Didn't you say he'd invited you to visit him in Bulgaria? You never went, did you? Or _did_ you?"

"No, I never did. With the war on, I didn't think it would be smart to venture into unknown territory. If it were a place I knew already, that might have been one thing, but to go as a total stranger seemed too risky."

"But you wanted to so badly," Daphne gushed, clutching her hands over her heart. "Your heart just broke when you had to write that letter of denial."

"I did _not_. I was glad I didn't have to deal with more mushy romance junk."

"Methinks the lady doth protest too much," Daphne said through her giggling.

Draco and Pansy joined them. They sat next to each other, and the customary hostility between them seemed to have vanished.

"I hear wedding bells might be in the air," Millie said, desperate for something to distract them all from her ball.

Pansy scowled. "It's the most absurd thing I've ever heard of. Make no mistake: this will not happen. Draco and I are utterly united in our defiance. It's the one thing we agree on completely."

"We'll be working on ways to make our fathers see reason, and suggestions are more than welcome."

Daphne quipped, "You could marry other people."

Pansy shook her head. "I couldn't produce a document showing I have the consent of my family, so it wouldn't be recognized."

"You could make yourself unsuitable for marriage."

"Get in the family way? Don't be absurd."

"I'll work on it," Daphne promised. "We could just castrate Draco."

"No, we could _not_ just castrate Draco!" he yelped.

Dinner conversation continued to be light-hearted and teasing. Everyone ate too much dessert and clutched full bellies as they headed towards the dungeons.

As they arrived back in the common room, nobody was quite ready to crack the books open. Everyone made to relax in front of the fireplace. Harry headed back to the dorm. Theo hadn't made it up to the meal.

His curtains were drawn, despite the relatively early hour. There was a plate with half of a sandwich left on his bedside table, so Harry knew he'd eaten something at least.

Harry joined the gang by the fire and soaked in the crackling warmth.

Laine emerged from her dorm and crept up close to Harry.

"Can we go somewhere and talk, please?" she said softly.

Harry nodded and led her to a far corner of the common room where there was a secluded nook. It was reasonably private, especially given that everyone was by the fire.

"I'm sorry I got so mad," she said, just as quietly as before. "What with Elan and Percy being abducted, it makes total sense that security would be stringent. Letters can be intercepted and tampered with. I was just upset because I didn't get to spend any time with you on the train. Sirius surprised you, I know. I should have expected that you wouldn't take the train back either."

"It wasn't on purpose," Harry said. "I like spending time with you."

"Me too. Let's try to do it more often."

"Yes."

She kissed him then, and everything was all right again.

After the house had mostly settled down for the night, Harry headed to Professor Snape's office for an Occlumency lesson.

"Sir, did you manage to see Elan or Percy?"

Snape looked truly grey. "I could do nothing for them. I only saw them for a brief moment. I doubt they even knew I was there. Bellatrix Lestrange has charge of them, and they are better off dead than in her hands." 

Harry felt sick to his stomach.  He couldn't imagine how badly Ginny and Draco would take losing their brothers. He never had siblings, but he knew the loss of friendship, and both Elan and Percy had been loyal friends.

"It's my fault." 

Snape waved his hand. "I admit, trouble does follow you, but this was not your fault. Bellatrix had stalked her nephew for weeks, waiting to kidnap him. Percy's one mistake was being a loyal friend. You did nothing wrong."

Harry wished that logic could comfort him. "I will take him down. I swear it," he hissed, more to himself to anyone. "It has to end."

"Let us see how far we have progressed towards that goal. Clear your mind."

Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly. As agitated as he was, Snape would find him easy pickings.

Despite his worries over his missing friends, Harry did quite well. His mind was a tranquil sea that mental probes could not penetrate, no matter what direction they came from. He was very much in his meditative state, and Harry actually felt quite refreshed.

"I believe, Mister Potter, that we have carried your study of Occlumency to a certain limit. I am no longer able to penetrate your mind, even when you are in a highly emotional state. You are ready to face the headmaster."

Harry shot to his feet in amazement. "I am?" he exclaimed with elation.

"Yes. His is one of the few minds more powerful than the Dark Lord's. He is your last challenge."

Harry swelled with pride. Snape thought he was ready. He couldn't wait to get on the magic mirror and talk to Sirius.

The week flew by. Harry was worried about Elan and Percy, but he tried not to dwell on the nightmare visions. Voldemort wanted him to see the images, so Harry wanted to avoid them.

Harry hurried to Snape's office on Sunday night. He wasn't sure what to expect now that Snape had declared him ready, but there had been no notice to change the routine.

Snape attacked Harry without notice as soon as he opened the door. He stumbled back, shoving back against the invasion. In seconds, his mind was secure. He stood there breathing heavily, shoulders shaking with sudden adrenaline, heart thumping in his chest. He stared at Snape, his eyes mirrored shields to guard his mind.

"Well done, Mister Potter," Snape said approvingly. He relaxed and looked away. "I do believe that you have become reasonably competent as an Occlumens. You are ready for a larger challenge. Tonight shall be your first session with the Headmaster."

That was great news, but Harry tried not to let the emotion affect him.

"Very good, sir," he said calmly.

The walk to Dumbledore's office was quite long, and Professor Snape was never much one for small talk. 

"Infiltrate!" came the response to their knock.

"Ah, Harry, so good to see you. Would you care for a lemon drop?"

"Thank you, sir."

"Professor Snape has been telling me about the remarkable progress you've made in your study of Occlumency."

"I've gotten a little better, sir."

"I should like to test your skills myself, if you have no objection."

Harry didn't know how he felt about Dumbledore seeing some of the things Harry had seen and done. There were secrets he was keeping: his Animagus training, his Apparition lessons, and Eithne the basilisk for starters. But the old man could hardly be more of a threat than Voldemort. Harry trusted his mind and his defenses.

"I suppose, sir."

Dumbledore looked over his half-moon spectacles, his twinkling blue eyes boring into Harry's with determination.

" _Legilimens!_ "

The force of Dumbledore's mind was overwhelming. Harry sat and tried to remain calm. Even Voldemort hadn't pushed this hard. It was as though he were covered in heavy weights pressing in at him. He could feel tendrils of thought probing his defenses, trying to find a weak point to breach. Any shield would collapse if you hit it hard enough and fast enough, and Dumbledore eventually did. Harry was ready, and he redirected his thoughts to his recent examinations, calling up every memory he had of the goblin rebellions. If it could put him to sleep in class, it ought to do wonders for satisfying Dumbledore's inquisition.

The other presence in his mind ceased pushing, and Harry had a brief moment of respite. Seconds later, there came another push, much faster this time, and seeming from a different direction. His shield crumpled, but Harry quickly channeled his Astronomy test, letting Dumbledore see how quickly he'd been able to find and diagram the constellation of Cancer.

Harry felt Dumbledore retreat a bit. He reestablished his protection, ordering his mind and taking a deep breath. Sure enough, there came another assault, and Harry gasped as he felt two different probes poking at his defenses. Snape had never done this to him before. Harry stilled his panic, calling up the ingredients of a Forgetfullness Potion. When his shield failed, Harry instinctively tried to link the two tendrils together. He sent them to the same harmless thoughts.

Then it was over. Harry sat in his chair, breathing a bit heavy.

"Remarkable. Congratulations, Harry, on a truly remarkable feat of mental discipline. Many who study the art for years do not acquire such skill."

"Thank you, sir."

"I will be glad to continue your training. Report here next week at your customary time for Professor Snape. You may go now."

"Good night, sirs."

That night, Harry was troubled by strange dreams. He stalked purposefully through the stone corridors, and black-robed figures bowed out of his way. He made his way up to the tower cells and looked in with a flush of satisfaction.

A young man, so dirty that it was hard to tell he had blond hair. He was nearly naked, clad only in a ragged pair of trousers. Bruises covered his body. Still, there was no mistaking that pointed chin or those grey eyes.

" _Crucio!_ " Harry couldn't see the spellcaster, but the voice belonged to a woman.

The screams of the damned were sweet music to his ears. Elan Malfoy twitched and writhed on the rough stone floor, and Harry felt a surge of alien pleasure.

Harry struggled to push out what he could plainly tell was an intruding mind. He came awake in a cold sweat.

The images raced through his mind, but he pulled the calm from within and soothed his thoughts. He felt the image fading away. 

With a stab into his mind like a knife, he saw Percy writhing in pain. When the spell was removed, Percy was too bad off to even weep. A low, gasping sort of whine was the best he could manage.

Harry swallowed his emotion and detatched himself from Percy. The calmness flooded through him as the image faded.

Harry kept himself centred and calm. Brief flashes, too blurry to identify assailed him. He ignored them and focused on his breathing. The attacks tapered, and eventually he drifted off, perfectly content.

The next morning he got up early and went to Snape's office to report the dream.

"You say you managed to fend him off?"

"Yes, sir. It took a bit, but eventually the visions faded. It's all thanks to your teachings."

Snape allowed himself a small smile. "You are welcome, Mister Potter. You did well. You kept your wits about you under pressure. Dismissed. If you have further visions, please inform me."

The cold fact that he couldn't do anything at all to help Elan and Percy gnawed at Harry. He felt helpless, and he didn't care for the sensation one bit. He had a powerful urge to _do_ something and having to go about his daily routine as though nothing were amiss simply felt wrong. He bent his thoughts on the matter as he chewed his breakfast.

* * *

Three days into May was the full moon, and Harry had managed to swap patrol schedules around so that he was completely free. He intended to sneak off the grounds and meet up with the Marauders in London.

With such tools as the Marauder's Map and his father's invisibility cloak, it was simplicity for Harry to sneak out of the castle. He hurried across the grounds down to the Whomping Willow. He drew his wand and was about to poke a stick at the knot that would immobilize the waving branches when he felt the alien presence in his mind.

His eyesight faded as the vision overtook him. Elan and Percy, together now, were twitching on the stone floor. Percy's robes were so ragged as to not ever merit being called clothing any longer. Elan was shirtless and had long red stripes running up his back. They were screaming in unison, the two pitches melding into an awful harmony.

Harry shoved the images out of his head. He summoned the calmness to banish the panic and fear. He drew a deep breath and emptied his mind.

The blow to his stomach caught him unawares.

His eyes popped open, and he found himself laying on his staring up at the sky while the branches waved over him. His chest hurt atrociously, and he couldn't draw breath. He scrambled to his feet just in time to get another branch across his back. He fell down, lacking even the wind to cry out. He struggled to gather his wits.

The transformation was without thought. Suddenly Harry was a lot closer to the ground. He still hurt, and his instinct took over. Chitter crawled out of harm's way and collapsed, trying only to get his breath back.

His human mind knew that he needed to get back to the castle. He would get there faster in his human body. He willed the change and took two steps. The pain was nearly intolerable. If not for the agonies he'd endured during Animagus and Apparition lessons, Harry was sure he would have fainted. Several of his ribs seemed broken.

He didn't know where his wand was. He had been holding it. He must have dropped it under the willow.

With a squeak, Harry transformed again. He padded slowly over to where eleven inches of holly had landed on a patch of moss. He grabbed it in his teeth and carried it out of danger.

He made the transformation for what he hoped would be the last time for a good while.

Harry managed to get himself under the invisibility cloak, but only with sharp daggers of pain in his side. He went back to the castle as quickly as he could, which wasn't very fast. He put the cloak away and climbed the stairs to the hospital wing.

"Madam Pomfrey?" he said, pushing open the door.

"Good evening, Mister Potter. What seems to be the trouble?"

"We were working on our spells, and I caught a Bludgeoner square on."

"Why didn't you block it?"

"I was busy dealing with the swarm of angry bees."

"You children are entirely too reckless. Where are you stung?"

"None of them got me. Just the curse."

"Well, let's take a look at you. Have a seat."

Madam did her usual diagnostic.

"Cracked ribs, a bit of tissue damage, and a concussion. Drink this pain potion. I'll be right back with the Skele-Gro."

The potion tasted like mango. Harry's head was still spinning when Madam handed him a small cup of foamy white liquid.

"Down the hatch."

Harry very much wanted to spit the vile tasting stuff out again. Actually, he wished he hadn't drank all of the pain potion.

"Now, I'm going to keep you overnight for observation."

Harry groaned and reached for the pyjamas she handed him.

He slept poorly, knowing that Sirius would be worried about him. In the morning, Madam chided him for not getting more rest. He accepted her scolding with minimal fuss.

She did allow him to leave, and he hurried down to the dorm. After ruefully catching Sirius up, he grabbed his bath things and headed for the shower.

* * *

Umbridge called a prefect meeting a week later to announce the last Hogsmeade weekend of the year. Once again, prefects and select members of the duelling club were drafted into service.

On the way back to the common room, Harry thought about where he would take Laine and what she might like to do. It would have to be special, he decided. They so seldom had occasion (or time) to do nice things together.

Fortunately a font of dating advice was mere feet away.

"Hey Pansy, I was wondering if you had any thoughts on what I might do with Laine this weekend."

"You might snog her senseless, but somehow I don't think that's what you meant. I take it that the Three Broomsticks common room isn't terribly exciting?"

"Not really, no."

"Well, one place I've always wanted to go is Madam Puddifoot's."

"What's that again?"

"It's this delightful little tea shop just a few buildings back along the side street there. It's a small sort of place, but that's where any boy takes a girl when he wants to treat her right. It's the only place you can get a Love Potion."

"Love Potion?" Harry yelped.

Pansy giggled. "Not that sort of potion. It's this fizzy coffee drink with peppermint ice cream. It's absolutely sinful but yet so yummy."

"Sounds interesting."

"So if you want to show Laine a good time, bring her there."

Harry once again thanked his lucky stars that he had such good friends.

"Thanks, Pansy."

"Any time, Harry. Now if only some nice boy would ask me to go there, we could double."

"Still no luck finding one?"

"Finding is not the problem. Finding one who isn't already taken is."

Harry grinned at her.

"Sorry, Pansy, but I learned never to get involved with two girls at the same time. Besides, I don't think Laine would appreciate it. She's gotten a teensy bit jealous lately."

"A bit? The girl's gone mental."

"Things have been slightly stressed this year."

"You can say that again."

"Things have been slightly stressed this year."

Pansy laughed, and the sound echoed delightfully through the dungeons.

Back in the common room, Harry quickly informed Draco about the village outing.

"What do you say we double date, my good man?"

Harry blinked. "With who?"

"You."

"I mean who am I going to double date?"

"Laine."

"Yes, I get that. Who are we supposed to double date with?"

"Me and Ginny."

"Ginny?"

"Yup."

"When did she agree to go out with you?"

"She hasn't yet, but she will."

Draco seemed almost to be his old self for a moment.

"You're awfully confident."

"Call it a hunch."

Harry followed Draco over to where Laine and Ginny were sitting by the fireplace with Arcen and Lucas doing homework.

"Hey, Ginny," Draco said, sitting down next to her.

"I'm really busy, Draco."

"I know. I won't be but a moment."

She glanced up from her text. "Well?"

"There's to be a Hogsmeade visit this weekend, and I wonder if you might like to patronize Madam Puddifoot's fine establishment with me."

"With you? Are you still on about this?"

"If you like, we could sit with Harry and Laine."

"We're going?" Laine said with surprise.

"If you'd like to, yeah," Harry answered.

Laine squealed and hugged him tightly.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Draco, I'm not sure what's behind all the attention, but sure. Why not? Let's go to Madam Puddifoot's."

"Excellent. See? That wasn't so hard now, was it?"

Harry had trouble sleeping that night. He was very excited about the visit to the village. He hoped he would be able to keep Laine happy. If she got cranky, the day would take a sharp nosedive, but if she was cheerful, then he might get some serious snogging.

When he finally did get to sleep, his dreams were distinctly non-Voldemort-related. He woke up panting for breath and needing to change his shorts. He laid back down and tried to calm his racing thoughts. The remainder of his night passed without disturbance.

Harry and Draco were up early, both excited about the visit to the village. They hurried through their showers, wanting to be in the common room to greet their dates. When the girls emerged from their dormitory, Harry's breath was stolen away. Laine had taken a lot of care with her appearance. Though she really didn't need make-up to look nice, she had used a bit to make herself very pretty indeed.

Draco bowed to Ginny and offered her his arm. Harry did the same with Laine. Together, the quartet strolled up to the Great Hall. The boys were hungry, and Harry was inclined to eat like wild animals, but the presence of the ladies helped him keep his urges under control.

Couples and other groups of students trickled away from the hall as they finished breakfast and headed for the front gate. The village waited for no one. The weather outside was absolutely delightful. There wasn't a cloud in sight. A warm, gentle breeze carried the scent of the mountains. Flowers bloomed all across the grounds, growing more wild once they departed the castle grounds.

Harry and Laine held hands as they walked down the path. So far she was smiling and laughing. He resolved to do whatever he could to keep her in that mood. He pointed his wand at a patch of wild forget-me-nots. He whispered an Engorgement Charm. One of the blossoms grew to the size of his palm. He Summoned it and presented it to Laine with a flourish.

Laine tucked the blue flower into her hair. It looked good. It made her hazel eyes seem brighter, more golden. She smiled at him, and Harry hoped this was a sign that their day would be a good one. As they passed the train platform, Laine squeezed Harry's hand. He smiled as he remembered the fun time they'd had under it. Hopefully today's outing would not be similarly interrupted.

Draco kept up a stream of neverending chatter. He yammered on about the Quidditch team as though he had not a care in the world.

Ginny had demonstrated skill on a broom before, so Harry suspected she would try out for the team next year. She wasn't presently a reserve either, but it was entirely possible she could beat out Arcen for the third Chaser spot.

All the Quidditch talk got them to discussing the upcoming last matches of the season.

"Honestly, I'll be glad when we're done with practices and can focus on the OWLs," Harry said.

"Not a very captainly thing to say," Laine teased.

"Maybe not, but even captains have to pass their exams."

They walked around the village with no particular aim. The prefects and select members of the duelling club were required to maintain vigilence.

In Honeyduke's, they found Crabbe and Goyle raiding the shelves with a basket in each hand.

"Stocking up, I see," Draco drawled languidly.

"Isn't that the point?" Goyle retorted. "When is my dad going to take me out for the day? If I want sweets, I need to get them now."

That made a great deal of sense. Harry bought a case of Chocolate Frogs, seven bags of Bertie Botts, and twenty Sugar Quills.

Munching on a Licorice Wand, they headed into Zonko's Joke Shop, where they ran into the Weasley twins.

"So we'll have fifty units ready by the end of term. Given the summer to work unrestricted, we should have another three hundred each of the cremes, the nougat, and the pastiles. We'll make our delivery on first September."

"Very good, Mister Weasley," said Zeddicus Zonko, grandson of Zekiel. He handed over a pouch that jingled. "Thirty percent up-front, as we agreed."

"Thank you, Mister Zonko," said the other twin. "Always a pleasure to do business with you."

"Fred, George," Ginny said with surprise. "What are you two doing here?"

"Just a bit of business, Gin. We'll tell you if you promise not to tell Mum."

"Is this the operation you keep talking about?"

"It is indeed. Your brothers are quite talented inventors."

"Shame you weren't in Gryffindor to see it, but we tested a lot of our products on the younger students-"

"That's disgusting!" Laine said hotly.

"They volunteered. Anyway, we were able to get our formulas worked out. We just need funds. We put on a demonstration for Mister Zonko here, and he's agreed to put up some money now so we can get started on his first order."

"Well done," Draco said, sounding sincere. "Starting up a business is not easy. Father tells me that even maintaining the ones one has is a lot of work."

"Thanks, Malfoy. Say, have you ever thought about investing in an up and coming comedy confectionary company?"

"Would you care for a sample?" One of the twins held out an orange-white swirled candy.

"Don't take it," Ginny warned.

"Believe me, I'm not that stupid. What's it do?"

"This is a Canary Creme. It'll turn you into a bird for a time."

"I see. What else have you got?"

"Ton-tongue Toffee. Makes the tongue swell up."

"That might be useful."

"For those looking to skive off the classes a bit, you can't beat the Nosebleed Nougat."

"Comes in two pieces. You eat the first, get out of class, eat the second half, back to normal again."

"Where have you been with that stuff? I've needed it several times this year."

"One of our best products by far is the trick wand."

"Looks like an ordinary magical wand, but try to cast a spell and it turns into a rubber chicken."

Draco couldn't help but laugh at that.

"Impressive. Send me an owl with a business plan and a product line. Tell me how much you need. We'll talk."

Ginny hardly seemed less incredulous than the twins.

"We'll do that, Malfoy. We will."

They left the shop and Apparated as soon as they got to the street.

"Are you really going to give my brothers money?"

"Not give," he said meticulously. "I'm going to invest in their company. Maybe. This is exactly how Father makes money. If the company does well, I'll make money. If they do poorly, I'll lose it. I have a vested interest in seeing them succeed."

"Are you joking?"

"I never joke about money."

"You'd better not be trying to suck up to me by trying to buy my brothers."

"I'm not trying to buy anyone. I just want to make a profit and prove to my father that I've got good business sense. Shall we? I'm feeling rather parched."

Madam Puddifoot's was a small teashop up a side road that Harry had never noticed before. It was a cramped, steamy little place where everything seemed to have been decorated with frills or bows. 

On the way in, they ran into Neville Longbottom, who was walking with Amy Geagan, a fellow fifth year from Gryffindor. She was rather pretty, about his height, with short brown hair that peeked out from under her fur-trimmed hat.

"Hi, Longbottom," Harry said cordially.

"Hi, Potter."

"All right?"

"Near enough. A bit panicked about the OWLs, of course, but that's nothing surprising. Even the break I got when they cancelled Divination isn't helping as much as I'd hoped."

"How goes the Remedial Arithmancy?"

"It's a nightmare. I expressly avoided signing up for it in third year, and now I get dragged into that classroom anyhow."

"That's rough. It was a third class for Daphne, Crabbe, and Goyle, so they just got to keep Magical Creatures and Ancient Runes."

"I'm wishing I'd signed up for that instead."

"No turning back time, I'm afraid."

"I guess not. Have a good lunch."

"You too."

Draco held the door as they filed inside. A bell over the door announced them in a tuneful tinkle; the round tables were decorated with lacy napkins and china sugar bowls. There weren't many customers, but a few tables were occupied. Harry noticed Diggory and Cho Chang.

They ordered drinks to start with. Both girls got Love Potions. Draco wanted a simple coffee with milk and three sugars. Harry had no idea what to get. The menu was as incomprehensible as his Ancient Runes homework once had been.

"I'll just have what he's having," he finally told Madam Puddifoot when he'd stood there indecisively for five minutes while a line queued behind him.

"I'll bring them right over."

"I wish Longbottom hadn't mentioned the OWLs," Draco said as they chose a table. "I'd almost managed to stop thinking about them for a few moments."

"Be glad you have the OWLs to preoccupy you," Ginny said enviously. "I've got entirely too much time to think about other things. Are you able to sleep any?"

"Some. Most of it is pretty exhausted sleep."

"Do you dream? I have to see them tortured every night in my nightmares."

"Badly?"

"Yeah. Cruciatus. A few lessers for variety, but mostly that."

"I have no doubts," Draco said heavily.

"I just can't get these images out of my head. Over and over I see Percy get cursed. She doesn't even ask him any questions. She just tortures him."

Laine said, "I've been so worried about you two that even I'm starting to dream about it. I don't know if it's Ginny describing them so vividly or what."

"It's really strange, but I always seem to think he's being cursed by a woman."

"Actually, that might be true. Aunt Bellatrix probably begged Voldemort for the pleasure of torturing him."

"Her own nephew?"

"Believe it. She's an absolute fanatic. She hates my father, so anything she can do to hurt him is good. She probably wants to do the same to me." Draco had a momentary flicker of fear cross his face. 

"Well, who could blame her for that?" Ginny asked, trying to distract him. "Don't worry. Half the girls in Hogwarts will hex you before she gets close enough to try." 

Draco chuckled sadly. "I think you don't dislike me half so much as you let on. You're obviously a girl with some sense about her. Why do you protest so much?" He paused for a moment. "Got a crush?"

Ginny forced a laugh and shoved him playfully. "Draco, the size of your ego never ceases to amaze me."

Madam Puddifoot brought their order to the table, and Draco took his mug eagerly. They all tried to keep the conversation light, but there honestly wasn't a lot to be cheery about. They lapsed into silence and sipped their drinks. Harry tried Laine's concoction and found it far too sweet for his tastes. Laine reached over and wiped foam off his nose. Ginny reached over and smeared foam _on_ Draco's face. He sputtered a protest, but it seemed good-natured, and he cleaned himself off with great aplomb.

"Do you guys want to have lunch here?" Harry asked.

"Food's pretty expensive here," Ginny noted.

"I asked you out, Ginny. I'll get the cheque."

"Do you enjoy wasting money, Draco?"

"It's not a waste. I want to pay for you."

"Not that. Do you enjoy overpaying? Food's better and cheaper at the Three Broomsticks."

"If we go, are you going to let me pay?"

"This is a date, isn't it?"

"I believe it is. Shall we then?"

"Let's."

Harry held the door as they exited the tiny teashop. Laine took his hand and squeezed it tightly as they headed towards the pub.

They had turned onto High street and were nearly there when a familiar voice roared in outrage.

"Malfoy!"

Harry closed his eyes with exasperation. Their Hogsmeade weekend had been going so well. He really didn't want Weasley to screw it up, but there he was, red-faced and brooding as he stalked toward the four of them.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing with my sister?"

Nobody in proximity could help but hear, and many turned to watch the unfolding drama.

"We were simply having high tea at Madame Puddifoot's. Nothing that you or your family would find disgraceful or inappropriate," Draco said calmly.

"Like I can believe a mini-Death Eater like you, Malfoy," Weasley said, still making enough noise to cause a crowd. "You're just like your father. Everything you say is a lie."

Draco started to raise his wand but, even before Harry could persuade him otherwise, Ginny grabbed his wrist and shook her head.

"Ginny, get away from him," Weasley yelled.

"Why?" Ginny asked. "He's been nothing but a gentleman to me, which is more than I can say about you."

"I'm your family!" Weasley fumed. "Get. Over. Here. I won't allow you to hang around scum like him."

Harry instinctively grabbed Draco's collar to keep him from lunging at Weasley. "You won't allow me?" Ginny responded, raising her eyebrows. "I have my own mind, Ron. I can think for myself, and I happen to like Draco. I don't need you to second-guess my judgment."

"That's my job to look out for you! He's a Slytherin!"

"Well so am I!" Ginny shot back. "Are you seriously going to try to tell me who I can and cannot date?"

"You're _dating_ now?!"

Before things could degenerate, a shrill voice split the air.

"Ronald Weasley!"

Weasley's face went pale. Ginny winced and lost a bit of her outward anger.

"Uh-oh," she muttered quietly.

"Uh-oh, Weasley," Draco drawled. "You're in _trouble_."

A plump, red-haired woman was walking angrily from the Three Broomsticks. "M-mum?" Weasley's voice quaked. "W-what are you doing here?"

"I should ask the same of you!" Harry tried his best to blend into the background. Now a crowd really was gathering.

"It was Ginny, Mum, she's -"

"We were just keeping to ourselves, Mum, and Ron tried to attack Draco."

"He called me all sorts of vulgar and nasty names," Draco said, "though I'm sure that's no reflection on your mothering skills."

"Ronald, what have I told you about your language?" Mrs. Weasley chided.

"I never called him \- he's just making that up!" Weasley fumed.

"I did not raise you to go off calling other people liars," Mrs. Weasley said, taking Weasley by the ear, "nor did I raise you to brawl in public."

"Ow, Mum, you're hurting me!" Weasley's mother dragged him off towards the Three Broomsticks as the crowd of students howled with laughter.

"What just happened?" Harry asked when he could breathe again.

"Mum got a job cooking for Madam Rosmerta. It's why I wanted to come here. I knew he wouldn't be able to start any trouble with her around."

"Clever little plan," Laine noted with approval.

"Call it dating insurance. I wanted today to go well."

The food at the Three Broomsticks was twice as good as before now that Mrs. Weasley was in the kitchen. There was not a great deal of conversation at the table nor in the rest of the establishment. Everyone was too busy eating.

Harry had some duelling club business to attend to, so they walked back up to the castle. Laine headed to her dormitory to crack the books. She snogged him quite thoroughly before they parted company.

"Meet me on the seventh floor at curfew tonight," she whispered, her breath hot on his ear. "Wear your best robes."

"What do you have in mind?"

"You'll just have to show up and find out, won't you?" she said impishly. "That green number from last year would be fine if you haven't anything else."

"I'll see what I have."

It was of course impossible to focus on his captainly duties now that his imagination had been fired.

Laine had asked Harry to wear his best robes. He was fortunate that he had never unpacked his dress robes from the Yule Ball last year. They were a bit wrinkled, but Harry knew what to do. He spied just the person he needed sitting at a nearby table.

"Pansy, what's a good charm for freshening up a set of robes?"

"You're not going to wear the same clothes without laundering them are you?" she replied, wrinkling her nose.

"No, I'm pulling out something out of the back of my wardrobe and need it to be as though it were newly laundered."

"Ah. Yes, I can help. Bring them here."

Harry ducked back into his room and carried the robes out.

Pansy arched an eyebrow. "Those are your dress robes from last year."

"Yes, they are. How about that?"

He met her questioning gaze unflinchingly.

Pansy tapped them with her wand and whispered something Harry didn't catch.

"There. Perfect."

"Thanks, Pansy. You're the best."

After dinner, Harry pulled on the dress robes, ran a comb through his hair, and put his invisibility cloak in his pocket. He wrapped up in a light cloak and stuffed parchment into an envelope.

"I'm just headed up to the Owlery," he said to the others in the common room. "Back in a bit."

Harry hurried up to the seventh floor, trying not to draw too much undue notice. He was the first to arrive, or so he thought. As soon as the bell tolled curfew, a door appeared in the wall. It opened with a slight creak, but nobody came out.

"She doesn't want to have the room go away," he reasoned. He grabbed the handle and swung the door wide.

Amazingly, he seemed to have stepped back in time.

He was in the Great Hall, and the walls had all been covered in sparkling silver frost with hundreds of garlands of mistletoe and ivy crossing the starry black ceiling. The moon was in waning crescent, but still so bright it seemed one might reach out and touch it. The House tables had vanished; instead, there were about a hundred smaller, lantern-lit ones, each to sit a dozen people.

There were no other people present, just Harry and Laine. She wore the same simple yet elegant purple dress but did it much better now. She had removed the shoulder straps, and Harry found himself wondering how it was staying up before realizing that he didn't care how or even if it did. A shiny satin sash gathered it in at her narrow waist, the garment's only decoration. The fabric flowed smoothly over her hips, and he found his eyes tracing her delightful lines.

Her auburn hair was as he remembered it, magnificently styled as only magic could do. A few locks curled down the left side of her face, and his fingers twitched to brush it back.

Around her neck, the gold locket he'd given her gleamed brightly.

He had to remember to breathe. She was lovely.

"You look beautiful," he said simply.

She beamed at him, more radiant than the moon, and she dropped into a deep curtsey.

"You are very handsome."

"Laine, would you like to go to the Yule Ball with me?"

Her smile grew even larger. Her eyes sparkled.

"Thank you, Harry. I would be delighted."

Somehow the room knew exactly the right music to play. Harry took Laine's hand and led her to the centre of the dancefloor. The strains of the opening number were plucks on the strings of his memory.

Harry had learned how to dance from Pansy and Daphne. Laine followed his lead easily, and it was as though they'd been dancing together for months rather than for the first time. She moved and responded to his slightest signal. He didn't step on her toes once.

The song ended, but the dance went on. New music swelled to inspire the feet, and Harry sent Laine into a twirl, simultaneously doing one himself. With no one to watch and criticize, they were as free as could be. They moved beyond the basic steps, becoming a little more stylish and flamboyant. He twirled her, spun her, and even once dipped her. They moved together as one, their eyes locked, their faces very near. Even if there had been more people present, they would not have been noticed. For each right now there was only the other.

Harry was breathing harder from their exertions, so he danced Laine towards the punch bowl, which was filled with a red and fizzy liquid.

"This is fun. Great idea."

"Thank you."

"What made you think of it?"

Laine giggled a bit. "I liked you even then, you know. I was very jealous of Patil, and I dreamed that you'd suddenly change your mind and want to take me instead. When it didn't happen, I figured I'd at least console myself with a few dances. Then the scarlet harlot contrived her way into being your other date. I didn't get a single dance with you."

"Well here I am," he invited, opening his arms. "I'm all yours."

They danced for an hour, lost in each other. When they wanted to rest, they rested. When they wanted to resume, they resumed. Harry felt his worries drop away. Somehow the magic of that night had returned, and only the moment mattered.

There was no need to venture into the cold of the Scottish winter for a chance to snog either. Harry twirled her, but when he brought her back, he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. With no other people present, he leaned her back right there in the middle of the dancefloor. It was gentle and soft, even tender. She melted into him, and the music somehow was punctuated by fireworks, though Harry honestly couldn't tell if it was from the magic of the room or the power of her kiss.

Laine kissed him again, harder than before. She was running her fingers through his hair and up and down his chest. Her tongue poked at his lips demanding entry. They had kissed in the French style a few times before, but always gently and with reservation. Now Laine seemed almost demanding of him.

Their teeth clacked together, and Harry winced. He broke the kiss and touched a finger to his lip. It wasn't bleeding, but he'd definitely have a swollen lip in a few minutes, especially if this rough smooching kept up.

The torchlight reflected red in Laine's eyes. She tipped her head slightly to one side. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. With me, I mean. What's wrong with you? You're never pushy when we kiss. Now you're licking my tonsils."

"I've missed you. When was the last time we got to snog? Seriously, now."

"Almost a month," Harry said after some thought. "There was Easter holiday, and then I got crushed by classwork. I'm still barely getting by. I caught a break from Snape last week, otherwise I wouldn't even be here tonight."

"I know," Laine said. "I'm not saying you should be doing anything different, but I don't know when I'll have a chance to be with you, and now that I've finally got you, I don't want to talk, and I don't want to just cuddle. I want your tongue in my mouth and your hands on my body."

Harry blinked. Laine was being _very_ forceful. "Well that sounds delightful. Let's have a seat, then."

"Don't get _too_ hopeful, though. All the clothes are still staying on."

"Of course."

She suddenly smiled, so calculating and self-congratulatory that Harry felt a bit nervous.

"I know the OWLs are only a month away. It's going to get worse, but there might be some light at the end of the tunnel. After you take your last exam, sleep for three days straight, and wake up, I might let you take some of the clothes off."

Harry's pulse started racing. He could hear his heartbeat thundering in his ears, and he was certain his face must be flaming red. He began to stammer, but Laine cut him off.

"Less talk, more snogging."

As the kiss deepened, Laine slowly ran her fingers through his hair, sending jolts of electricity through his scalp, down his neck, and straight to his feet. He pulled her closer, pressing their hips together. Her other hand, which had been stroking his back, squeezed him tightly. He ran his fingers slowly up and down her sides.

Their tongues duelled, slipping and sliding first in her mouth, then in his. Breath came in short gasps of inhalation and throaty moans to exhale. His heart was beating so fast, he was certain she could hear it, and sweat beaded on his brow from all the blood rushing to his face.

She rubbed her knee against his leg, causing a tremor that nearly felled them both. The hand on his back dipped lower and gave his bum a firm squeeze. He slid his hands up her side and brushed the edge of her breasts. She giggled and squirmed against him.

They snuck out of the helpful room near to midnight. Harry had the foresight to bring the Marauder's Map with him, so he was able to scout a safe route back to the dungeons.

"What is that you keep looking at?"

"Oh, just a handy bit of magic my godfather showed me. The parchment will glow yellow and then red if we get too near to danger."


	24. Quidditch, Careers, and Kisses

Slytherin's last match of the season was fast approaching. Captain Bletchley had drilled the team without mercy, but Harry didn't see much use. It was out of their hands now if they lost the Quidditch Cup. If Gryffindor beat Ravenclaw, they'd clinch it. No matter the point totals, three wins was three wins. Unless Ravenclaw managed the impossible and beat Gryffindor by a whole bunch of points, the Slytherin dynasty was at an end.

The last weekend in May was when it all went down.

The Slytherin first team and reserves had prime seating in the stands. Harry sat with Laine, thankful that he could spend time with her and also study the other teams.

Ravenclaw had the Quaffle, and Harry was watching the Chasers when Weasley made a sudden move towards the middle of the pitch. Harry instantly recognized the play.

He had to admit that Weasley had been well-trained as Seeker. Charlie Weasley was still legend in most of the school, and he'd supposedly taught his little brother everything he knew. Weasley and his Cleansweep 11 prototype were the undisputed king of the skies today.

"Weasley is going to deliberately fly between Ingram and Davies, so McClaggan has more time to hit that Bludger at Davies, and that will make him drop the Quaffle. See Spinnet and Johnson ready to come in and recover?"

Suddenly the two girls reversed direction, and Davies took the Bludger in the head. Johnson recovered the Quaffle and brought it down to the Ravenclaw hoops. She passed it to Bell, who faked out Webster to score.

"Good play," Harry said.

"You knew what he was going to do."

"I know a lot of things Seekers can do without breaking the rules. Take a look at Cho."

Laine stiffened. "What about her?"

"She's trying to find the snitch quickly before Gryffindor can get too ahead. See how she's making broad passes from a medium height? She's not higher because of the clouds. Without sunlight, it's harder to spot the shiny."

"She knows all about Seeking."

There was a definite edge in Laine's voice. Harry knew he should say something bad about Cho immediately.

"It's a smart move. Sometimes it can backfire though. She's been fooled on more than one occasion by shiny things that weren't the snitch."

"Do you have to talk about Chang?"

"Well we are supposed to be studying her. She's going to be Seeker next year, likely the captain as well. She might have to fight Webster for it."

"Who would you rather see?"

Harry considered the question and then stupidly answered honestly.

"Cho would be better, I think. More of a challenge. Webster doesn't seem the sort, you know?"

"Gee, I guess I'll just learn everything from perfect Miss Chang."

"Cho's a good Seeker, and it's important to evaluate the competition."

"Is that what you're doing? Holding her out to see how I measure up?"

"Yes. If you can learn from watching her performance, you should watch her. I've watched Cho a lot."

"I bet you have."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"What do you think it means?" Laine snapped.

"Will you please relax?" He really did not want to have a fight here in public.

"Will you please stop talking about other girls when I'm trying to spend some time with you? You're being about as romantic as a table lamp." Her disdain was clear, her tone biting.

"We're not here on a date. We've got to study the other teams. There might be a test later."

Her eyes narrowed. He groaned inwardly. He shouldn't have said this wasn't a date.

"What does it matter? We've lost the Cup anyway. Why keep fighting a futile cause?"

"It matters for next year. We'll need every scrap of preparedness we can muster to take the Cup back."

Laine huffed and turned her eyes to the field. Her hands, which had been on his arm, she folded in her lap. She didn't speak to him for the rest of the match and only answered direct questions with affirmative or negative noises and head movements.

Harry was irritated, but he continued to analyze the match. Monologuing was hard. It was difficult to keep focus.

Gryffindor won the match, 220-60, and the stands went bananas. Their celebration began instantly, continued through lunch, and carried on even to dinner. Harry found them to be a trifle overbearing, but he supposed he would feel the same in their place. 

"Can't they have the decency to have their party in their common room?" he asked, not really expecting an answer.

Draco snorted. "I suppose even a loser like Weasley is entitled to a few moments of glory. It'll make it all the more devastating to him when we take the Cup back next year."

"So true. And we will."

"Listen, Harry, after dinner on Tuesday, there's going to be a small party in that room on the seventh floor to celebrate Pansy's birthday."

Harry paused and shot his best mate an inquisitive glance. "Why are _you_ passing on an invitation to Pansy's party?"

"Why shouldn't I? It's what a friend and a gentleman would do."

"You and Pansy are always bickering."

"Pansy is one of my most favourite people."

"Then how come you don't want to marry her?"

"Just because I don't want to spend the rest of my life married to her doesn't mean I don't like her."

There was a certain logic to that. He made a note of the party in his study schedule, realizing he was going to lose a couple hours of sleep if he were going to properly prepare for Herbology.

He tried to get a jump on it that very evening, putting aside his Astronomy assignment, which was good enough. He was nearly through his introduction when Pansy came over to the table.

"Harry, I need you to switch patrol shifts. You won't have to do it Monday, and you'll take David's on Friday."

"And why would I give up my Friday evening?"

"Because I want to talk to him, and this is the best way."

Harry consulted his study schedule.

"Laine won't be happy. I've told her I would help her with Transfiguration."

"Look on the bright side. You get to do your patrol with Samantha."

Harry would not be advertising that fact. The sixth year was a very pretty girl, and Laine wouldn't take it at all well that he would be wandering around the castle after hours with her. It was frustrating that she seemed to think he was looking for ways to cheat on her.

Harry found himself with sudden unplanned free time on his hands. Well, not strictly free time. There was just as much work to be done, but now he had to shift around when it would get done.

_I need a better way to plan this_ , he thought.

* * *

Professor Snape appeared in the common room on Sunday night. He scanned the students and stepped with long strides over to the table where Harry, Daphne, and Millie were working on the Herbology essay.

"Mister Potter, Miss Greengrass, assemble the fifth years, please."

"Yes, sir."

Harry headed for the boys' dorm. He poked his head in.

"Snape wants to see us all in the common room. Where's Draco?"

"Having a leak," Goyle answered.

Harry pushed open the door to the bathroom.

"Draco! Meeting in the common room."

"Damn your eyes," Draco swore at him from the loo. "You nearly made me piss on myself."

"Then make sure you wash your hands."

Harry returned to the common room, meeting Daphne as she exited the girls' dormitory. He gestured politely for her to go first.

When everyone had found a comfortable seat, the professor cleared his throat.

"Tomorrow, I will be having individual meetings with each of you. We will discuss your potential career options and what subjects you will need in order to realize them. Please take some time tonight to think strongly on the matter. I look forward to seeing you all. Good night."

"Good night, sir."

Harry pondered his future the entire evening. He knew he wanted to kill Voldemort, but aside from that he hadn't made many plans. He didn't know what he was going to do after that or even until then. Voldemort was a Dark wizard, so it made sense to pursue the Auror training program. He'd do his best there and hope to join the Hit Wizards, an elite unit trained in extraordinary fighting tactics and spells. The skills he learned there would certainly be of use in staying alive when he went after the evil wizard.

Did he really want to hunt bad people for the rest of his life? Tonks had told him that the job also involved lots of paperwork. Every time one completed a training unit, there was a form to fill out, sign, have signed by the trainer, and file with the records group. Whenever a raid was conducted, debriefing afterward involved physical examinations, meetings, filling out reports, being interviewed, and more meetings. If one actually managed to capture a person or contraband, there was chain-of-custody paperwork to be started immediately, and three signatures were needed with every change of responsibility.

"Well, I certainly don't know what benefit I'll get out of this meeting," Draco complained. "I already know that I'll inherit some of the family businesses. I'm sure it will be more than enough for me to both grow and live a comfortable lifestyle."

"I don't know that I should care to work," Pansy said. "I am beautiful and vivacious. I want to live in the lap of luxury. Daddy absolutely spoiled me, and I've grown accustomed to a certain level of privilege."

"Brains turn to mush if they're not used," Tracy said with a toss of her hair. "I want to develop my own line of cosmetic charms. Some of the ones I've learned are absolutely frightening."

"Is that what you're blaming your appearance today on?" Daphne quipped.

Pansy giggled. Tracy sniffed.

"Clever wit, Daphne. What do you want to do with yourself then?"

"I intend to marry a Quidditch star and live the glitzy life."

"I thought that's what Millie planned to do," Pansy said. "How is dear Viktor?"

"I haven't a clue," Millie said, turning red. Harry wasn't sure if it was because of anger or embarassment.

"If you keep neglecting him, he'll slip away from you."

"Naw," said Arcen from a few seats away. "He writes her once a week. Bloke is smitten."

"Arcen, you're dead."

On Monday after classes, Harry reported to Snape's office for his appointment.

"Mister Potter, would you care for a cup of tea?"

"Thank you, sir."

Snape waved his wand, and the tea poured itself. Harry accepted the cup and took a small sip. It was strong and not too bitter.

The professor put down his tea and fixed Harry with a serious gaze. There was no hiding from those eyes. He reflexively took a deep breath and began to order his thoughts. Snape might just take a page out of Moody's book and attack him without warning when he wasn't expecting it.

"How much thought have you given to what you will do after you finish school?"

"Not much, sir. To be fair, my school years have been fairly exciting."

"Noted."

"The only thing I have known since I was eleven is that I am going to kill the wizard who killed my parents. Beyond that, I wasn't making too many plans."

"A course not entirely unexpected. You are an exceptional student, Mister Potter. You have an innate ability to brew potions that this school last saw in your mother."

"My mother?" Harry had heard many stories of Lily Potter from Sirius and Remus, but he'd not realized that Professor Snape also knew her.

Snape nodded slowly. "Yes, Lily Evans was one of the best in our year. Not as good as me, of course, but still quite impressive; moreso, considering her background. It appears you have inherited her flair."

"Thank you, sir."

"If you wished to continue your study of Potions, I could write you an introduction to any of the Masters in Britain or abroad."

"If I did go that route, would I be able to apprentice myself to you?"

Snape smiled thinly. "You are not the only one who hasn't made plans for after the end of this war. I do not expect to survive it. I have too many enemies and too few friends. Either my treachery to the Dark Lord will be exposed and he will kill me, or I will be taken for a Death Eater and struck down in combat. My road is a dangerous one."

"Very well. Assuming we both live through this, would you accept me as your apprentice?"

"If you do as well on the OWL as I suspect you will, you will have to prove yourself in NEWT Potions. Continue to impress me there, and we can indeed discuss a future relationship."

"I'll do my best, sir."

"Slytherins always do. Now, another potential choice?"

"Well, I have thought about becoming an Auror. I've been fighting the Dark Arts most of my life."

"It should be noted that you have done so quite effectively. The Auror Corps would be glad to have you."

"Mostly I guess I just want to not have the threat of Voldemort hanging over me. I want to enjoy my life. I want to find a nice girl and raise a family. I don't crave adventure or excitement. Is it selfish to feel that if I defeat Voldemort, I'll have done more than enough for the world?"

"Not in the least. Though I am sure many will try to guilt the Boy-Who-Lived into all manner of ridiculous things, you would be perfectly within your rights to disappear from the public eye forever."

"I don't think I want to do that. I don't want to be Minister or sit on the Wizengamot, but I don't want to be a hermit either."

"You do not strike me a politican. I don't think you have the patience for it. It is the one Slytherin trait you lack in abundance."

"That's true, sir."

"Other options? You are quite handy on a broom."

"I have thought about Quidditch, sir. I could play for a local club, or I could play for the national team."

"All of which would be glad to have you."

"Last year I realized that there was much more to brooms than Quidditch though. I could join the British Broomracing Association or try to start a Quodpot league."

"If you enjoy what you do, you will never work a day in your life. Sport is a most rewarding career."

"I guess I'm realizing that I have a lot of choices. It helps that I've got a pile of money and don't have to work if I don't want to."

"In that case, I recommend NEWT-level classes in line with your more immediate needs. Potions, Charms, Defence, Herbology, Arithmancy, and of course Transfiguration."

"Of course."

"If you wish to carry on with Ancient Runes, it is a most fascinating subject. I have found myself grateful many times that I took the harder subjects. The NEWT for Muggle Studies is absurdly simple."

"So continue on as I have been?"

"I believe so, if your OWL results permit, naturally. I only accept O-level students into my advanced class. Professor McGonagall permits only E-level and above to continue on with her. You will have no trouble there, I assure you."

His classes decided upon, if not necessarily his future career, Harry bid his Head of House a good evening and went down to the dungeons.

* * *

Tuesday evening after dinner, they all took a break from studying to celebrate Pansy's 16th birthday. While it would be sheer madness to throw an extravagent event with only twelve days to go before the O.W.L.s, it seemed proper to at least take a few minutes to note the occasion.

Pansy had invited all of the fifth year girls, plus Laine, Ginny, Shawna, and Sarrah of the fourth years. The girls had all changed out of school robes and into nicer things. All of them wore make-up and had somehow managed to style their hair on the way to the party.

Most of the fifth year boys had been invited, along with three sixth years, Thomas Lapointe, Michael Drummond, and David Palce. The three had freshly shaved faces, and they all had splashed on cologne. The three scents conflicted horribly, and Harry considered casting a Smell Blocker Jinx on himself.

They were eight and eight. They met up on the seventh floor, and Draco ushered them inside the secret room that could become whatever the user required.

It was swanky without crossing the line into gaudy. The floor was covered in cushions. A wireless played soft music in the corner. Candles provided illumination, and there was a simple cloth screen set up near the fireplace.

"Thank you all for coming. I know we're all busy, we fifth years especially. It means a great deal to me that you've taken time from your studies to celebrate my sixteenth birthday with me. I'm afraid I didn't arrange for snacks or drinks."

"I did," Draco interjected. "Nothing fancy, but I do have butterbeer and some Cauldron Cakes."

"Thank you so much, Draco."

"You're very welcome, Pansy."

"Okay, it's time for everyone's favourite party game!"

"Piñata?" said Goyle.

"Magical chairs?" said Crabbe.

"What have I got in my pocket?" said Blaise.

"No, Spin the Bottle!"

The younger girls began giggling, but Laine wasn't joining in. Harry hoped she wasn't about to pitch a fit in the middle of Pansy's party.

"The rules are simple. We go around the circle, and when it's your turn, you give the bottle a spin. Whomever the bottle points at, you both go behind that screen over there and snog. When you're done, you come back out, and the next person goes."

"What if it points at another girl?" Sarrah asked.

"If you're so inclined, you can ask her if she's willing. If she is, you carry on. If not, it's the nearest boy."

"Same for blokes?" asked Lapointe.

"Of course. I don't expect that any of you will, but I'm not going to judge if you do."

"No thanks," Drummond and Palce said together.

"Everyone sit in a circle, alternating boy-girl."

Harry sat between Laine and Daphne.

"It's my party, so I get to decide who goes first. I pick Blaise."

"Me?" he said, sounding startled.

"Yes."

"Sure, Cici."

Blaise took the empty bottle of Butterbeer and sent it twisting, rotating rapidly on the floor. It slowed and stopped, pointing at Shawna. She began to giggle nervously. He stood and held out his hand. She took it and rose gracefully. They walked behind the screen, and everyone could see their silhouettes.

Blaise put his hands on Shawna's waist. She put hers on his shoulders. His head came down, and their lips came together. There was a bit of motion, several seconds passed, and then they broke apart.

"How was it?" Pansy asked as they rejoined the group.

"Very nice," Shawna said between giggles.

"She's aggressive," Blaise reported.

Shawna blushed a bit.

"You're next, Tracy."

Tracy's spin pointed at Millie.

"No, thanks," she said with a laugh. "No offense, Tracy."

"None taken."

The bottle pointed more towards David. He stood up, and they headed behind the screen.

This kiss lasted longer. They were wrapped up in each other, and David leaned her back. Tracy was breathing heavy when she sat down.

"Wow," she said.

"Good?" Pansy asked.

"You could say that."

Thomas wound up with Daphne. They took even longer, and her hair was mussed. She had a wicked grin as she sat back down.

Laine reached for the bottle and gave it a vicious spin. It whirled around faster than the eye could follow, and it pointed at Crabbe. He looked guiltily at Harry, but there was nothing to forgive. He'd chosen to play in this game, and so had she.

She wasn't happy about her match, but she didn't protest. Their time behind the screen was brief, but they didn't shirk it either. Her lipstick wasn't even smeared.

Harry gave the bottle a good spin, and it pointed squarely at Pansy.

"Ooh, I finally get to make out with Harry."

"I didn't know you wanted to," he bantered back. "Why didn't you ever say?"

"I'm sure I had good reasons."

Behind the screen, Pansy wrapped her arms around his neck and looked up at him with wide green eyes. She really was quite pretty, and Harry felt his pulse start increasing.

"Happy birthday to me," she breathed.

Harry closed his eyes and put his hands on her waist as though they were dancing. Her lips were very soft, and she was very enthusiastic about the snog. It lasted quite a few seconds, and Harry pulled back to take a breath. With his mouth open, Pansy poked her tongue inside, taking him completely by surprise. He wiggled his back at her, and it felt very sexy.

They broke apart at last, and she held him close.

"Oh, that was worth the wait," she whispered in his ear. Harry started to blush.

Laine didn't look happy as he sat down.

"Took you long enough," she said in an undertone as Daphne got Michael, and they went behind the screen.

"It's just a game. We're all having fun here."

Shawna was selected again as Goyle spun the bottle.

"Lucky girl!" Pansy cheered.

Shawna turned even redder, but Goyle offered his arm like a gentleman. She must have liked it, because she was just as aggressive as she had been with the far more handsome Blaise.

Then it was Ginny's turn. The bottle veered slightly off course and pointed squarely at Draco.

"If my brothers could see me now," she said wryly.

"It's not so bad," Pansy said in a rare compliment to her ex-boyfriend.

"Try not to enjoy it too much," Ginny said as they headed behind the screen.

"I'll try."

Draco took Ginny by the elbows and pulled her into him. Their lips met, and their heads moved a bit. Then he pulled back. They emerged, and he walked her back to her seat.

David got Sarrah, her first time being picked. The fourth year and sixth year went behind the screen. Their snog was interupted by a yelp as they quite clearly saw her grab his bum.

"This is getting exciting," Crabbe noted.

Shawna got Crabbe, and then it was Draco's turn.

Draco's spin pointed at Goyle.

The big boy laughed good-naturedly. "I'll do a lot for you, Draco, but this crosses the line."

"Fine by me."

The closest girl to Goyle was Ginny.

"Didn't we just do this?" he said lightly.

"Tired of me already, Draco?"

"Hardly."

Their second round started much the same as the first. They smooched for a bit, and once again Draco pulled back. Ginny had a strange look on her face when she emerged.

Millie and Michael were next, followed by Crabbe and Tracy. Sarrah and Goyle paired up, with Michael and Tracy getting another round.

Finally it was Pansy's turn. Her spin ended with David. The soft-spoken prefect held her hand as they went behind the screen. Her cheeks were flushed when they came back.

Blaise had his second spin, and this time he got Laine. They were barely back there at all before she broke away. He had a slight scowl on his face when they returned.

Tracy and Goyle had a good snog, judging from their flushed faces.

Thomas got the birthday girl, who looked pleased to go again so soon.

When it was Laine's turn again, it pointed to Harry. Her unhappy look vanished, and they went behind the screen hand in hand.

"This isn't nearly so much fun as I thought," she whispered, slipping her arms around him.

"No, but it's getting better," he replied, lowering his mouth to hers.

Laine clearly felt threatened, because she was almost demanding with her kiss. Harry started to get dizzy, and he had to take a breath through his nose.

Harry went next, and the fates chose Tracy. The circle, which had been laughing and chatting, got very quiet. He swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. This could be very awkward. Laine looked about ready to explode with rage. It was entirely likely that she might smash the bottle and try to stab somebody with the jagged end.

Tracy stood up slowly. Her expression was uncertain.

"It's just a bit of fun," Harry said, deliberately casual.

"Right."

In the nominal privacy, her brave face cracked.

"This is a bit cruel," she whispered.

"We don't have to."

"Do you want to?"

"Only if you do."

"We can be mature about this. Yes."

They leaned in, and he instinctly tilted to the left. Her eyes slowly closed, and Harry did the same.

Kissing Tracy was just like Harry remembered it. Her lips were still soft, and it was sweet and gentle. A wave of nostalgia washed over Harry, and for a moment he was taken back in time.

Then it was over and reality came back. They broke apart and looked intently at each other. Harry felt confused. He'd thought he was over thinking of Tracy in a romantic way. He returned to the circle quietly, and the others didn't take his mickey out like they'd been doing with everyone else.

"She didn't try anything, did she?" Laine whispered as he sat down.

"No, it was nothing to get excited about."

Daphne and David were next.

"Finally," she said. "I'm feeling left out over here."

"Let's make up for it," he replied.

They were gone for nearly five minutes.

Goyle got Pansy, and she sized him up.

"I think I'm going to need a stepladder."

Next it was Ginny. When the bottle stopped spinning, it rolled, moving from Harry to Draco.

"You again?" she teased.

"Apparently so."

They picked up right where they'd left off. Once again he pulled back. They seemed to look at each other for a moment, and they leaned in for another go. His hands slid to her waist, and her hands went up into his hair.

"Woot! Way to go!" the rest of the group cheered.

They both looked a little goofy when they came back. Draco's hair was untidy, a state he would never normally allow.

David and Millie were followed by Shawna and Michael. Then Draco's spin pointed directly at Ginny.

"Draco?" she said suspiciously. "Is this bottle rigged?"

"If it is, I didn't do it."

"Whose bottle is this?"

"It's just an empty bottle that I found under Crabbe's bed," Harry said.

"Did you tamper with it?"

"Not I."

"Pansy?"

"Me, do a charm? You're so witty, Ginny." It had been Daphne.

For the fourth time, Draco and Ginny went behind the screen. They were gone for rather a long time, and they sat down next to each other when they came back.

"You're messing up the order," Pansy scolded them.

Shawna switched places with David to keep the boy-girl order.

Crabbe got picked by Millie, then he picked Tracy again. He couldn't stop grinning once he sat down.

Sarrah's spin pointed at Harry. He stood up reluctantly, knowing how badly Laine would react to his snogging with her roommate.

"Now Shawna's the only one of us fourth years who hasn't smooched you," she said with a giggle.

"Poor her," he quipped. "I'm not trying to fill out a list or anything."

He tried to be perfunctory, but she was having none of it. He kept his lips closed and thought about Laine. She looked about ready to explode when he got back.

"That was awful," he whispered in her ear. "What do you say we have our own game with just the two of us and no bottle?"

A smile broke through. "Yes."

Michael got Pansy, and then Pansy got Thomas. Her cheeks were flushed as she came back, and her eyes seemed lost in thought.

They'd made it through two rounds. Everyone was a bit goofy. Harry knew his own grin was rather dazed. Blaise reached for the bottle again, but the bell sounded near-curfew before he could spin.

"And that concludes our little game," Pansy said, sounding most satisfied with herself, "but I didn't get to Crabbe or Blaise. The birthday girl shouldn't miss out on anything. I've kissed Draco before."

"Still have time," Blaise said, winking at her.

She giggled. "Let's go."

They ducked behind the screen, and the kiss was deep. Pansy looked a little mussed when they emerged.

"I don't want to be the only one left out," Crabbe said.

"We've got to get back to the common room," Harry said.

"One quick one, Crabbe."

Pansy didn't even bother to go behind the screen this time. She grabbed the front of the big boy's robes, stood up on her tip-toes, and laid one on him right in front of everyone.

"Wow," he exclaimed, breathing heavily. "That was amazing."

"I know," she said, tossing her shiny black hair back. She strode confidently from the room, swinging her hips just a bit sassily.

* * *

With Gryffindor's three wins, Saturday's match against Hufflepuff was really only a formality. This year the Cup would be decorated with red and gold, a fact that had Bletchley in a near-catatonic state. After ten years, Slytherin's reign had come to an end. It was up to Harry to bring the Cup back home next year, a task he freely accepted.

Bletchley played horribly. The Chasers did what they could, but the opposing Keeper was just too good. Diggory didn't pursue the snitch at all, largely thwarting Harry at every turn to keep the match going. Hufflepuff was trouncing Slytherin when Harry mercifully caught the snitch, ending the slaughter with the meagrest of wins, 260-250.

Nobody wanted to celebrate, so they all returned to their books after lunch. Studying was the order of the day until the bell sounded curfew. Harry packed his things away and went to the dorm to get ready.

Tonight was a full moon, and having missed the last one due to injury, Harry was determined to see Padfoot and Moony again. He left the castle immediately after dinner. He spoke only briefly. He had a bit of time, but he wanted to leave room in case things went horribly wrong again.

He crept across the grounds in his mongoose form. He wasn't even going to give the Willow a chance to hit him. Once in the tunnel, he scampered quickly to the Shrieking Shack. 

Back to his human form. He drew the memory of the drawing room in his mind's eye. When he had every detail perfect, he turned on the spot and Disapparated with a pop.

He stumbled as he reappeared at Grimmauld Place. Strong hands caught him.

"Easy, Harry," Sirius said. "You're all right."

"Thanks, Sirius."

"You're early."

"I wanted to spend a bit of time with you as humans."

"Anything on your mind?"

"Not really. School is school. Prefect meetings are boring, and I skip as many as I can now. We lost the Quidditch Cup to Gryffindor, which is intolerable."

"You'll just have to take it back next year."

"That's what I said. Pansy's looking for a new boyfriend. She had a bit of a kissing party a couple of nights ago."

"Yeah?"

"It was fun, though Laine wasn't too happy when it was me and another girl."

"How is Laine?"

"Her mood swings are still the same. Speaking of girlfriends, has Missus Malfoy found a nice girl for you yet?"

"Nice changing the subject. Several."

"How come you didn't tell me?"

"There wasn't much to tell. None of them went particularly well."

"Oh?"

"The first girl was named Meghan."

"What was she like?"

"Brunette, short, and a babbler. She lives for celebrity scandal. Her idol is Rita Skeeter."

"I like Rita."

"I don't think I've ever heard so much inane chatter in my life. I know more about Gilderoy Lockhart than I ever wanted to know."

Harry couldn't help but grin. "He's such a ponce."

"That he is. You know Gwenog Jones?"

"Not personally. She's lead Chaser for Holyhead."

"I like Quidditch as much as the next fellow, but I don't care which players are dating each other or who might have a secret love child."

"Not one to read the scandal pages, eh, Sirius?"

"I may never read again. So that date was an utter failure. The next girl Cissa set me up with was Wendy Slinkhard."

"The author?"

"You know her?"

"Pansy loves her books."

"She's nice enough, but all she talked about was her new best-seller that just came out."

"No interest in leather-clad lads lassoing Romanian Longhorns?"

"She showed me the cover art. She was not amused by what I had to say about it."

"Which was?"

"I suggested that the lead male get a haircut."

Harry snorted. "I bet that went over well."

"No, not really. The one after Wendy didn't say anything. I don't even remember her name. She expected me to do all the talking. I like the sound of my own voice, but she didn't respond to _anything_ I tried to bring up."

"That must have been awkward."

"You have no idea. Then at the end of the night, she tried to shove her tongue down my throat."

"Was that part at least fun?"

"I didn't want any part of it. I don't snog people I don't know anything about."

"Good plan."

"The one after that was obsessed with cats. She has a dozen of them, each with a more stomach-turningly cute name than the last. She had so many pictures of them. As I told her, I'm more of a dog person."

Harry groaned. "That's awful."

"Yes, it is."

"It wasn't Professor Umbridge, was it? She likes cats."

"Does she? How's she been lately anyway?"

"Duelling Club is still pretty fun. I'm looking forward to this tourney she's planning."

"Still a good class?"

"The line between class and club is pretty fuzzy these days," Harry admitted. "It's not bad though. Just about everyone is better with their combat spells, even Neville Longbottom."

"Thanks to you, I'm sure, Captain."

"I'm having my Occlumuncy lessons with Dumbledore now. I believe I mentioned that."

"You did, but I'm glad to hear it again. Any progress?"

"Some. I've also been having more of those visions from Voldemort. I've been able to fight him off eventually."

"Excellent, Harry. That's good news. Soon he won't be able to get in at all."

"Draco and Ginny have been having bad dreams about what's happening to their brothers."

"Understandable. How are they holding up?"

"Draco's so controlled it's a bit scary. Sometimes if I didn't know better, I'd say there wasn't anything wrong."

"Have you tried to talk to him about it?"

"Yeah. He's trying to be strong like his dad wants him to be. It can't be easy. Ginny is pretty tough. She lived with Tom Riddle in her body for nine months. If that didn't break her, nothing will."

"I'd say so."

Just then, Moony knocked on the door. "Sirius, are you ready? Hello, Harry."

"Is it time?"

"It is."

"Let's do it."


	25. The Words Of Prophecy

The weekend brought the first days of June. The sun shone nearly every day. Temperatures soared, and much studying was done outside. Even the Slytherins were known to bask in the wonderful weather.

Just like real snakes enjoyed sunning themselves.

Harry received a note at dinner asking him to please report to the Headmaster's office following the meal. He went, feeling very nervous. He hadn't done anything wrong as far as he knew. With the O.W.L. exam review formally starting on Monday, he hadn't been out to cause any mischief.

Harry said the password to the gargoyle that guarded the spiral stairwell. It stepped aside, and Harry rode to the top. He knocked firmly on the door.

"Arrive immediately!"

Harry pushed open the door and was not surprised to see Professor Snape already there. When one was called in for discipline, the Head of House was usually present. He had his arms folded in front of him, a stern expression on his face.

"Ah, Mister Potter. My gratitude for your prompt attendance. Please park your hips on the sitting device."

Harry allowed a small grin at the Headmaster's choice of language.

"Am I in trouble, sir?"

"Have you done anything you ought to be in trouble for?"

"No, sir."

"Then you are not. Amazing how easily that works."

"Why am I here, sir?"

"I had a cancelled appointment, so I thought to give you an unscheduled lesson. I hope I have not interrupted your studies too greatly."

"It's starting to get a little rigid. OWL review starts tomorrow."

"Have you had any more troubling visions or thoughts not your own?"

"Sometimes I can feel Voldemort trying to break into my mind, but I push him away as soon as he touches me."

"How fortuitous. Precisely what we've hoped for."

"He's trying to show me Elan and Percy being toutured. I don't want to see that, so I don't let him in."

"Most excellent. We are going to take the challenge a step further. Every mental shield can be beaten, but the power to assert mastery over one's own mind is to throw an intruder out. If you can defend against both Professor Snape and myself, you will be ready."

"Let's do it."

Harry took a deep breath and cleared his mind.

" _Legilimens!_ "

A delicate probe came against the calmness of Harry's thoughts. It felt like Snape. Harry did not react. Snape had ceased being able to break through his defences some time ago. This was little more than an irritant. He waited.

As he anticipated, Dumbledore had let Snape make the first move, trying to keep Harry busy. Dumbledore's mind was immensely powerful, and his attack was two-pronged. Harry was now fighting off three probes. He tried to keep his cool and pushed the assault back.

Snape's thought, which had been dancing around the edges, pressed in suddenly. Harry was already dealing with Dumbledore, and Snape managed to break through. Harry lashed back, but Dumbledore took advantage of his distraction and broke in as well.

Images of Privet Drive began to flash in Harry's mind. Harry used it, showing them Vernon with a raised fist, open mouth, and angry words.

The intensity of the memory made Dumbledore back off. Harry re-established his mental defences. He shoved Snape away, adding a sort of slap to make the man think twice about re-engaging. When Dumbledore pressed in again, Harry was ready, and he redirected the attack away from his own mind and into Snape's.

Then it was over. Harry was breathing heavy. He was wary of another attempt, but Dumbledore was smiling, his blue eyes twinkling.

"Excellent, Harry, truly excellent. Thirty points to Slytherin for a marvelous display of some truly complicated magic."

"Thank you, sir."

"I am more than satisfied that you are able to keep Voldemort from penetrating your mind. Secrets that you keep will be safe."

"Is that what this was about, sir?"

"It was. Do you remember the question you asked me four years ago, Harry?"

Harry flashed back to his first year at Hogwarts. He'd been laid up in the hospital wing after he'd saved the Philosopher's Stone from Voldemort and Quirrell. Back then he'd wanted to know just one thing.

"Why does Voldemort want to kill me so badly?"

"Indeed. I told you then that the time was not right. A part of me wanted to let your innocence continue, for no child should be burdened with such an awful answer, but I should have realized that if you were ready to ask the question, you were ready to hear the answer. I cannot change the past, but I am ready to tell you now."

"Yes, sir?" Harry was eager now. Of course, he already knew why, but he was interested to see if Dumbledore would tell him the whole truth.

"Before you were born, there was a prophecy about how Voldemort might be undone. A record of it is kept in the Department of Mysteries. This prophecy clearly identifies you as the one chosen to end him. However, I was the one to hear it uttered, and I would like to show you now."

Dumbledore got to his feet and walked past Harry to the black cabinet that stood beside Fawkes's perch. He bent down, slid back a catch and took from inside it the shallow stone basin, carved with runes around the edges. Harry immediately recognized a Pensieve. Dumbledore walked back to the desk, placed the Pensieve upon it, and raised his wand to his own temple. From it, he withdrew silvery, gossamer-fine strands of thought clinging to the wand and deposited them into the basin. He sat back down behind his desk and watched his thoughts swirl and drift inside the Pensieve for a moment. Then, with a sigh, he raised his wand and prodded the silvery substance with its tip. 

A figure rose out of it, draped in shawls, her eyes magnified to enormous size behind her glasses, and she revolved slowly; her feet in the basin. Harry recognized her at once.

"Trelawney?!"

"Professor Trelawney, Harry. It was a cold, wet night sixteen years ago, in a room above the bar at the Hog's Head inn. I had gone there to see an applicant for the post of Divination teacher, though it was against my inclination to allow the subject of Divination to continue at all. The applicant, however, was the great-great-granddaughter of a very famous, very gifted Seer, and I thought it common politeness to meet her. I was disappointed. It seemed to me that she had not a trace of the gift herself. I told her, courteously I hope, that I did not think she would be suitable for the post. I turned to leave.

"Then she said this."

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies...and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not...and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives...the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..." 

The slowly revolving Professor Trelawney sank back into the silver mass below and vanished. The silence within the office was absolute. Neither Dumbledore nor Harry nor Snape nor any of the portraits made a sound. Even Fawkes had fallen silent. 

"It means me," Harry said at last. He'd felt a lot better knowing only part of the prophecy. The whole thing seemed to imply that he might not win, only that he had the chance to.

Dumbledore surveyed him for a moment through his glasses. 

"The odd thing, Harry," he said softly, "is that it may not have meant you at all. Sibyll's prophecy could have applied to two wizard boys, both born at the end of July that year, both of whom had parents in the Order of the Phoenix, both sets of parents having narrowly escaped Voldemort three times. One, of course, was you. The other was Neville Longbottom." 

"Longbottom!" Harry burst out. "Longbottom's a good bloke, but he's no saviour."

"Yes," Snape murmured.

"Then it might not be me?" said Harry. "We might really have to depend on Longbottom?"

"The official record was re-labeled after Voldemort's attack on you as a child," said Dumbledore. "It seemed plain to the keeper of the Hall of Prophecy that Voldemort could only have tried to kill you because he knew you to be the one to whom Sibyll was referring. There is no doubt that it is you. The final identifying feature of the boy who could vanquish Voldemort is that Voldemort himself would mark him as his equal. And so he did, Harry. He chose you, not Neville. He gave you the scar that has proved both blessing and curse."

"But he might have chosen wrong!" said Harry. "He might have marked the wrong person!" 

"It is worth notice, Harry, that Voldemort's creed is that the only kind of wizard worth being or knowing is the pureblood, and yet when considering the boy he thought most likely to be a danger to him, he chose the half-blood, like himself. He saw himself in you before he had ever seen you, and in marking you with that scar, he did not kill you, as he intended, but gave you powers, and a future, which have fitted you to escape him not once, but four times so far - something that neither your parents, nor Neville's parents, ever achieved." 

"Why did he do it, then?" said Harry. All this talk of the events of that night was making him angry as he remembered just why it was he wanted so badly to kill Voldemort. "If he'd never gone after me, I wouldn't want him dead. If he'd just left my parents alone-"

"He was acting on incomplete information, Mister Potter," Snape interrupted. "Remember, he did not know the whole prophecy."

Dumbledore looked over sharply. "Severus, what do you mean?"

"Mister Potter has been aware of the prophecy for some nine months now," Snape said smugly. "I told him myself."

"I asked you not to."

"There was no harm in telling him what the Dark Lord already knew. Such a thing could only help him."

"I wanted to protect him."

Snape coughed impolitely. "So did I."

Dumbledore sighed. "Well, it doesn't matter now anyway. We must look forward. I do not know when or how the fight between you will occur. It could be tomorrow or it could be in ten years. I am trying to give you as much time to grow up and prepare as I can, but the war is upon us now."

"Yes, this fight," Harry said. "What was that about the power he knows not? I know a fair bit of magic for a fifth year, but even my Parseltongue is something he can do too. I bet he doesn't even need to see a snake in order to speak it."

"There is a room in the Department of Mysteries that is kept locked at all times. It contains a force that is at once more wonderful and more terrible than death, than human intelligence, than the forces of nature. It is also, perhaps, the most mysterious of the many subjects for study that reside there. It is the power held within that room that you possess in such quantities and which Voldemort has not at all."

"And that is?"

"Love, Harry. The power of love. It is Voldemort's great weakness. He cannot understand it, and therefore he will be defeated by it."

"Love?"

"Love. It was the love of your mother that protected you from the terrible hatred of the Killing Curse. It reflected back upon Voldemort and destroyed him instead."

"But he came back."

"Through Dark magicks too foul to discuss right now. I am still uncertain as to precisely what he has done to achieve such a thing. I am still trying to find proof, and then we will be able to reverse it. Then his last death shall be his final."

"Have we tried a stake through the heart?" Harry muttered.

"I have considered that he experimented with vampire's blood," Dumbledore said seriously. "Few know this, but Voldemort was once a student at Hogwarts. His name was-"

"Tom Marvolo Riddle."

"Yes, of course, you would know that. Good, this shall save time. Tom was one of the best students Hogwarts had ever seen, before or since. He became a prefect and was later Head Boy. He earned top marks in all his classes, full marks on OWLs and NEWTs, and had a magical prowess that half the staff wished for. Yes, Tom was brilliant, but troubled. Coming to Hogwarts was a dream for him, as well as you, but he made the dream a nightmare."

"I don't understand, sir."

"He sought power and control. He'd always known he was special, and now that he had the means to harness his magic, he was determined to use it to control others. He disappeared from sight immediately upon finishing school. When he reappeared, he was Voldemort."

"He was calling himself that long before he finished school, sir."

"Yes," Dumbledore said softly. "It was happening even then. I kept a watch on him, but not close enough. He was a model student. He never gave me any cause other than a very bad feeling whenever I was around him."

"He's just a sicko," Harry said, summing it up. "There's something flat wrong with him. Who tries to kill a baby?"

"Yes, he very well could be called a sociopath. Yes, he cannot comprehend love. I think you've put your finger on it, Harry. And what he cannot understand will be his end."

"Somehow."

"Somehow. I am no Seer, Harry. I don't know how this is all going to play out. I wish I could offer more comfort to you, but it would be disingenuous of me to do so. All we can do is fight to deny him dominance and sabotage his schemes. That includes protecting the words of the prophecy that you have just heard. Now you understand why it was so important for you to learn Occlumency. Which brings us full circle and back to why I called you here tonight."

"Yes, sir."

"A prophecy can only be removed from the Hall by those named in it. Terrible madness otherwise afflicts one who does so, even if they should manage to return it. Thus far, Voldemort has not risked simply ordering one of his Death Eaters to take the prophecy anyway. We believe it because he needs every single one of his servants, but that situation could change at any moment. We do not know why he hasn't tried to enter the Department of Mysteries himself."

"And none has been brave enough to ask him," Snape added.

"Now that you are able to protect your mind, we need your help."

"My help?"

"Harry, will you come to the Department of Mysteries with me and move the prophecy?"

"Sure, but where? There's no place that's safe. Gringott's has been broken into, and this place might as well have a welcome mat put out by the gate."

"Quite true," Dumbledore said without batting an eye. "So we must rely on cleverness, I'm afraid. It must be hidden in some place where Voldemort would never think to look in a hundred lifetimes."

"Order Headquarters? It's under a Fidelius Charm."

"He would expect there and would simply turn an Order member to take it for him."

"My house? Nobody knows where it is."

"A few people do, Harry. What if your friend Draco were to be told that he must take the prophecy or see his brother killed?"

Harry felt a sudden lump in his throat. Elan had been missing for more than two months now. Everyone knew he was in Azkaban if he were still alive, and he would likely never be the same if he survived.

"Draco would try to save his brother."

"Yes. And a most noble thing it is. So we cannot keep the prophecy there."

"Can we find a place and cast a new Fidelius Charm? If you didn't tell anyone-"

"Even I can be broken, Harry," Dumbledore said quietly. "All men have a weakness. No, several people must know where it is in order to move it again. We must keep Voldemort ignorant at all costs."

"So how do we hide it?"

"With a cunning Slytherin trick," Snape answered. "We put it where he would never look, would never even dream of looking. You are, I believe, familiar with Arthur Weasley?"

"Yeah, he drives the Knight Bus. Is that the plan? Keep it moving?"

"That's fairly ingenious, Harry, but no. Weasley also has a second job, at the Ministry. He runs the Centaur Liason office, where no being ever goes. It's a perfect place to put something you don't want anyone to find."

Not even Dumbledore could Apparate on the grounds of Hogwarts. Professor Snape went before them to clear the way of students. Harry followed as the Headmaster meandered towards the front gate at a casual stroll. He seemingly had not a care in the world, as though they weren't on a mission of urgency.

Harry tried to keep his excitement under control. He walked just as leisurely as the old man, but inside he was near to bursting. He had finally learned the truth about why he'd had to grow up in a cupboard under the stairs. He at last had an answer to why Voldemort wanted to kill him so badly. The knowledge made him giddy.

The sky was partly cloudy, the waning full moon providing all the illumination they needed. There was a warm breeze rustling the leaves on the trees, the whispering call of nature. Harry had an urge to change into his mongoose form and run freely through the grass. He resisted, for it would never do to let the Headmaster know he was an illegal Amimagus. He'd managed to keep that secret during their Occlumency lessons, and he wasn't about to just blatantly show the meddler just because he was flying high. Dumbledore had orchestrated entirely too much for Harry's liking, and the more control Harry had over his own life, the better.

The gates opened wide in well-oiled silence as they approached. Harry supposed they must recognize the Headmaster. They stepped over the boundary and stopped.

"Here is where we Apparate. You have been Side-Alonged before, yes?"

"Yes, sir."

"Excellent. Take hold of my arm here, and we shall be off. You're not prone to Apparition sickness, I hope?"

"No, sir. I Apparate just fine."

"Splendid, dear boy, splendid. Nothing more off-putting than vomiting as soon as one arrives. Terribly difficult to recover and make a good impression after that."

Harry took a tight hold of the Headmaster's arm, trying to pretend he didn't know all about Apparating.

"To the Ministry."

They Disapparated with a _pop!_

The designated Apparition point for all arriving wizards was a very long and splendid hall with a highly polished, dark wood floor. The peacock blue ceiling was inlaid with gleaming golden symbols that kept moving and changing like some enormous heavenly notice board. The walls on each side were paneled in shiny dark wood and had many gilded fireplaces set into them. Long queues of wizards had formed before each fireplace, waiting to depart with a soft whoosh.

Halfway down the hall was a fountain. A group of golden statues, larger than life-size, stood in the middle of a circular pool. Tallest of them all was a noble-looking wizard with his wand pointing straight up in the air. Grouped around him were a beautiful witch, a centaur, a goblin and a house-elf. The last three were all looking adoringly up at the witch and wizard. Glittering jets of water were flying from the ends of their wands, the point of the centaur's arrow, the tip of the goblin's hat and each of the house-elf's ears, so that the tinkling hiss of falling water bounced off the marvelous hall in a cascade of sound.

"Normally you are supposed to check in at the security desk, register your wand, and have a search for Dark magical items, and under normal circumstances, I would agree with such measures. However, tonight is no normal night. Follow my lead."

"Yes, sir."

They strode towards the golden gates at the end of the hall. A few other people were also fighting the crowd, but they seemed to instinctively make way for Dumbledore. Harry trailed him closely. As they were about to pass through, a burly-looking wizard stepped over.

"Here, what's all this then?"

"Good evening, Eric," Dumbledore said pleasantly. "I'm just popping in for a quick visit with Cornelius. Won't be but a moment."

"Who's the lad?"

"Allow me to introduce one of Hogwarts' finest," the Headmaster said grandly. "Prefect and Captain of the Ministry Youth club, Harry Potter."

Eric the security guard looked and saw the famous scar. His face paled a bit, and he stood up straighter.

"He's expressed a certain interest in joining the Aurors once he finishes school," Dumbledore continued, leaning close in as if sharing a confidence. "Has a fair shake of making it, if you ask me. I figured since I was coming to the Ministry tonight anyway, I might as well bring him by to meet Amelia."

"Amelia?" Eric said haplessly.

"Director Bones, of course, Head of Magical Law Enforcement. You don't know her?"

"The- the director of the Aurors?"

"Oh no, my boy. Rufus Scrimgeour is Auror Actual. He reports to Amelia."

"I see."

"Charming fellow, Rufus. His wife Teresa invited me to join them at the opera next month. I have never seen The Pirates of Penzance, but I expect it should be fascinating. Are you an opera-goer, Eric?"

"Me? No."

"Ah. Pity. It really is a marvellous experience. Would you like to come? There are four tickets, and I must invite a guest."

"I'm probably working," Eric grumbled.

"I'm sure Rufus would be glad to get you the night off."

"That's all right, Dumbledore," Eric said shifting his balance back and forth. "Thanks, but I don't think all that warbling is for me."

"As you wish. Do send an owl if you change your mind. I'll pass along your regrets to Rufus."

"That- that won't be necessary. You can go on up now."

"You're too kind, Eric. Come along, Harry."

Harry kept close as they made their way to the lifts. Beyond the large gates was a smaller hall where at least twenty lifts stood behind wrought golden grilles.

Dumbledore pressed the nearest 'down' button, and a lift clattered into sight almost immediately. The golden grilles slid apart with a great, echoing clanking. They stepped inside, and Dumbledore pressed the number nine button. The grilles closed with a bang, and the lift began to descend, jangling and rattling the whole way.

"We're to meet with the Keeper of the Hall of Prophecy," he told Harry. "I can't tell you his name, because I don't quite know it myself. You should address him as Keeper."

"Yes, sir."

When the lift halted, a cool female voice said, "Department of Mysteries," and the grilles slid open.

They stepped out into the corridor where nothing was moving but the nearest torches, flickering in the rush of air from the lift. This corridor that was quite different from those above. The walls were bare; there were no windows and no doors apart from a plain black one set at the very end of the corridor. As they approached the door, it swung open silently. Headmaster and student stepped inside. 

They were standing in a large, circular room. Everything in here was black including the floor and ceiling; identical, unmarked, handleless black doors were set at intervals all around the black walls, interspersed with branches of candles whose flames burned blue; their cool, shimmering light reflected in the shining marble floor made it look as though there was dark water underfoot. 

The door closed behind them. Without the long chink of light from the torchlit corridor behind them, the place became so dark that for a moment the only things they could see were the bunches of shivering blue flames on the walls and their ghostly reflections in the floor. 

There were around a dozen doors here. There came a great rumbling noise, and the candles began to move sideways. The circular wall was rotating. Harry feared for a moment that the floor might move too, but it did not. For a few seconds, the blue flames around them were blurred into brilliant lines as the wall sped around; then, quite as suddenly as it had started, the rumbling stopped and everything became stationary once again. Harry's eyes had blue streaks burned into them; it was all he could see.

"Hall of Prophecy," Dumbledore said pleasantly.

The door to their left opened. The room beyond was filled with beautiful, dancing, diamond-sparkling light. It took a few moments for Harry's eyes to become accustomed to the brilliant glare, but then he saw clocks gleaming from every surface, large and small, grandfather and carriage, hanging in spaces between the bookcases or standing on desks ranging the length of the room, so that a busy, relentless ticking filled the place like thousands of minuscule, marching footsteps. The source of the dancing, diamond-bright light was a towering crystal ball jar that stood at the far end of the room. 

Dumbledore led the way down the narrow space between the lines of desks, heading for the source of the light, the crystal bell jar quite as tall as Harry was that stood on a desk and appeared to be full of a billowing, glittering wind. 

In the very heart of the bell jar, drifting along in the sparkling current inside was a tiny, jewel-bright egg. As it rose in the jar, it cracked open and a hummingbird emerged, which was carried to the very top of the jar, but as it fell on the draught its feathers became bedraggled and damp again, and by the time it had been borne back to the bottom of the jar it had been enclosed once more in its egg. 

Harry hurried to catch up with Dumbledore, who had moved past the bell jar to the only door behind it. 

Harry had never seen anything like it.

The ceiling was as high as a church and full of nothing but towering shelves covered in small, dusty, glass orbs. They glimmered dully in the light issuing from more candle-brackets set at intervals along the shelves. Like those in the circular room behind them, their flames were burning blue. The room was very cold. 

Without any warning, a wizard was suddenly standing before them. He was very tall, and thin even though he wore shapeless black robes. He reminded Harry very much of Professor Snape, and he was suddenly thankful that Snape liked him.

"Who are you?" The voice was low and croaky, as though he didn't often use it.

"I'm Harry Potter."

"What do you want?"

"I come to retrieve a prophecy. It names me and my destiny." The flowery language might have been a bit silly elsewhere, but Harry felt the need to be formal.

"You speak the truth. We do have such a prophecy here. If you would hear it, then follow me."

The Keeper turned sharply and headed down the central aisle. Harry and Dumbledore followed as best they could to keep up with his long strides.

The further ends of the long alleys of shelves were in near-total darkness. Tiny, yellowing labels had been stuck beneath each glass orb on the shelves. Some of them had a weird, liquid glow; others were as dull and dark within as blown light bulbs.

"The ones that look burned out are those prophecies that were thwarted. Their light no longer burns through time. Those which glow are either still valid or yet to occur in our time."

They stopped at row 97, and the Keeper pointed imperiously to one of the small glass spheres. It glowed with a dull inner light, though it was very dusty and appeared not to have been touched for many years.

Harry stepped forwards. He had to crane his neck to read the yellowish label affixed to the shelf right beneath the dusty glass ball. In spidery writing was written a date of some sixteen years previously, and below that: 

S.P.T. to A.P.W.B.D. 

Dark Lord and (?)Harry Potter 

_Trelawney and Dumbledore_ , he realized. He glanced at the headmaster, who nodded solemnly.

Harry closed his fingers around the dusty ball's surface. He had expected it to feel cold like the rest of the hall, but it did not. On the contrary, it felt as though it had been lying in the sun for hours, as though the glow of light within was warming it. Harry lifted the glass ball down from its shelf and stared at it. 

It didn't do anything. He didn't know what he'd expected, but it managed to disappoint.

Feeling like things had become very anti-climactic, Harry threw the glass ball at the floor as hard as he could. It smashed just like a snowglobe, and sparkling points of light swirled around.

"What are you doing?" screamed the Keeper, showing some emotion other than cold disdain as a miniature pearly-white figure with hugely magnified eyes rose into the air. Professor Trelawney spoke the prophecy and dissolved into nothingness. 

"You can't just come in here and smash prophecies!"

"I'm pretty sure we just did," Harry said flippantly.

"A novel approach, Mister Potter." It seemed that nothing ever surprised Dumbledore.

"Sorry I didn't say anything, sir."

Dumbledore gave a sigh of relief. "That is one way to solve the problem of where to hide it. The words are denied to him."

"That was my thought, sir. Why hide it if he might find it?"

" _Reparo!_ " said Dumbledore.

The shards of the orb reassembled, but the inside was dark and empty.

Harry didn't recognize the next spell, but the globe began to glow from its heart. It looked as though it were brand new.

"What are you doing, sir?"

"No need to hide it any longer. _Portus!_ "

Harry didn't recognize this spell either, but the Keeper did.

"You don't have authorization for that Portkey!"

"I don't? How careless of me. I'll have to stop by the Portkey office and file the requisite paperwork."

"A Portkey? Where does it go?"

Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling. "Any Death Eater who tries to take the prophecy now will find himself in an Auror holding cell."

"What if it's Voldemort himself?"

"That would be a very easy way to capture him. I doubt we will get so lucky, but we can always hope."

Leaving the Keeper to his apoplexy, Harry and Dumbledore headed back out through the Time Room to the circular room of doors.

"We wish the way out."

The door opened, and they were outside the plain black door again.

"Shall we, Harry?"

"Yes."

In short order they had taken the lift back to the Atrium level and made their way through the now much-thinner crowd of Ministry workers to the Apparition zone.

Harry took Dumbledore's arm again, and they were outside the gates of the school again.

"Mission accomplished," the headmaster said, "and it's not even curfew."

"Yes, sir. I need to tell Sirius what's happened."

They parted ways as they reached the entrance hall.

Professor Umbridge came down the stairs.

"Hem, hem. My goodness, it certainly is late, isn't it? What urgent business could have the headmaster out of his bed?"

"It's just an unscheduled patrol, Professor Umbridge," Harry said boldly. "I went to see Professor Dumbledore with a question about the magical protections of the castle. We got to talking, and I asked him when was the last time the spells were checked."

"It had in fact been nearly a year," Dumbledore offered helpfully.

"Well I said they should be checked as soon as possible, and every month thereafter."

"I quite agreed, and so urgent was Mister Potter that we exercise constant vigilance that we set out to inspect the spells this very night."

"You did not think to consult with me? I _am_ the Security Officer. I could tell you that the protective spells were checked only last week."

"Indeed," Dumbledore questioned.

"Yes. I brought in three of the best to have a thorough going-over."

"Well, our errand appears to be in vain. You may return to your studies, Harry."

"Good night, Professors."

Harry hurried down to the dungeons. He ignored the few people in the common room who tried to call him over and went right for the enchanted mirror.

"Sirius Black!

"Harry Potter!"

"We did it, Sirius."

"Did what?"

"We destroyed the prophecy."

"You what?"

"Dumbledore took me to the Department of Mysteries. I met this crazy old wizard called the Keeper, and he took me into the Hall of Prophecy. You should have been there, Sirius. There were thousands of glass orbs on shelves, each one containing a prediction of the future."

"He took you out of school?"

"Yes, but it's all right. There's no record of anything. He slipped me through security."

"I wonder. So your Occlumency is obviously good enough."

"At my lesson tonight, both he and Snape tried to break through. It took them awhile."

"That's excellent, Harry. Well done!"

"Then he showed me the whole prophecy."

"What did it say?"

"I have to kill Voldemort. I can't live while he survives. He'll keep trying to destroy me because I'm a threat to him. Whatever this power I have that he doesn't, he'll never stop."

"Well, you knew you wanted to."

"Yeah, but it's different to hear someone else say it."

"Keep your chin up, Harry. Term is almost over. Relax tonight. You have prevented Voldemort from ever hearing the full prophecy."

"It was pretty momentous," Harry said. "It feels like the calm before the storm now. OWL review starts on Monday. I'm rather dizzy."

"Get some sleep, kiddo. I'm here if you need me."

"Good night, Sirius."

"Good night, Harry."


	26. Hostage Situation

It was Friday night, the last weekend before the O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. exams were to begin. The nerves of the fifth and seventh year students were frayed to the breaking point. There was no homework assigned, but everyone was hitting the books. 

Every house responded a little bit differently. Planning was not a strong Gryffindor trait, and most of them were in full-on panic. They seemingly hadn't properly planned their studying and were now overwhelmed by all they needed to know. It might have been smart to hang out with the Ravenclaws, who had gone into overdrive with their round-the-clock studying fuelled by gallons of strong tea and copious amounts of chocolate. The Hufflepuffs were making a sport of things and had organized a series of games to help make studying fun. The Slytherins, naturally, had planned their review since January.

There was nothing to be done except keep cramming information into their heads. Every table in the common room was occupied as the fifth and seventh years spread their notes and materials out. All younger students were banished to their dormitories. The lamps were turned up brightly, and the fire roared cheerfully. The only other sound was rustling parchment. A selection of snacks and drinks was present so as to not draw them away even for a human complaint. 

Harry was in the middle of reading an essay from fourth year which had earned top marks when he felt an alien presence nearby. In the quiet of his own mind, the sense of another was very easy to detect. He pushed it away, slapping contemptuously as he did so. A pulse of anger came back along the connection. Voldemort was having trouble keeping his emotions in check. His failure thusfar to penetrate Harry's defences was severely aggravating to him. Harry found the attention drawn from his studies irritating.

The hour was past midnight. The common room was nearly empty, and almost all of the fifth years had sought their beds. The seventh years had stepped out to the Potions lab to brew some Draught of Living Death and probably some Energy Elixir while they were at it. Harry was also studying Potions with Draco, Daphne, and Millie when Laine and Ginny came running out from the girls' dorm. Despite having turned in hours ago, they were fully clothed.

"Harry!" Ginny said with relief. "Thank Merlin you're still up. I need you."

"What's going on?"

"Percy's being tortured. They're going to kill him tonight unless he talks. I saw it."

"It's just a bad dream, Ginny." Draco tried to console her. "I am also afraid of what Voldemort is doing to Elan."

"It wasn't a dream!"

"It truly wasn't, Harry." Laine pleaded. "Voldemort has grown tired of waiting and has given Bellatrix Lestrange one more night to break them before killing them."

"How do you know?"

"I also saw the vision."

"Vision?" interjected Daphne. "Turning into Trelawney are we?"

"Do you know of the Exile Chamber?" Laine demanded.

Draco stiffened. "It's how they used to execute the bad criminals in the days before dementors. They would use powerful magic to send them beyond the plane of our world."

"Voldemort is going to send our brothers through tonight if he doesn't get what he wants."

Harry, who had experienced visions before, squelched the doubt. "Are you sure, Ginny?"

"Positive. He told her that if they hadn't traded the prophecy to him by now, they never would. They're to kill the traitors and take the orb on their way out."

Harry stood up. He hadn't told anyone about the prophecy other than Draco. He locked eyes with his best mate. There was no way Ginny could have known about it unless her vision was true.

"Then let's go."

"Harry, we've got OWLs on Monday!" Daphne protested.

"My brother is about to die, and you speak of exams?" Draco was on his feet as well. "What's the plan?"

"We should contact Dumbledore and the Order."

"Why?" scorned Ginny. "So they can have one of their wonderful meetings? To hell with the Order, and to hell with Dumbledore. I'm going myself."

"We're going," Laine declared. "We need you, Harry. You're the best dueller in school. You've taken on Death Eaters before. We need you."

Ginny's passionate gaze held Harry's eyes hostage. " _I_ need you."

Harry could resist the Imperius Curse. He could fight off Legilimancy. He was utterly conquered by Ginny's plea. He recognized that she was going, with or without him. His decision all came down to how he could best help.

"I'm in."

"Can we please get some more blokes involved in this?"

"What's the matter, Draco? Don't trust us girls to watch your back?" Millie teased.

"I don't want to put so many lovely ladies in danger."

"Oh shut up, Draco," Ginny snapped. "We can take care of ourselves. We need your help, not your protection."

"Well that's good." He turned to Harry. "We should definitely not ask Theo. I don't think he could handle it."

"I agree."

"What about Blaise?" Harry asked.

"I still don't trust him."

"I don't know what to think of him, actually."

"I'm not bringing an unknown on a mission to go rescue my brother."

"Fair enough. Crabbe or Goyle?"

Draco considered it for a moment. "Neither of them is what I would call gifted."

"In any sense," Daphne quipped.

"They're both pretty rubbish with Curses and Hexes, and that's what will be called for."

"They are more likely to injure themselves than Death Eaters."

"We could get a few of the duelling club," Harry suggested.

"No time," Ginny said. "We've got to go now."

"How are we getting to London?"

"Brooms, of course."

"Wouldn't the Floo be faster?"

"The Floo can be watched, stopped or rerouted. They'll be watching it. It's not safe."

Deep in his heart, Harry knew she was right. The only other means were via portkey, which none of them knew how to make, or Apparition, which Harry and Draco were not supposed to know how to do. This might be a good time to use their illegal skill, but they had no idea how to Side-Along someone. Now wasn't the time to learn, either.

"Broom it is. Let's get above ground."

"Small problem," Daphne said diffidently. "I don't have a broom."

"What?" Laine exclaimed.

"I broke too many tailtwigs the last time I played. I haven't had enough pocket money to get it fixed. I've had more important things to worry about."

"You can't afford it?"

"Say it a little louder, Slater. Did I stutter? Not everyone has unlimited funds, you know."

Laine glared daggers. "I don't have bottomless pockets either. If you don't have a broom, you'll have to borrow one."

"And explain why I feel like flying right before the OWLs?"

"Take it."

"There isn't time to learn how to pick magical locks either."

"Well then we'll just have to leave you here," Laine said.

"Like hell."

"You can ride with me, Daphne," Harry offered. "I won't be able to fly at top speed anyway."

Daphne grinned at him. "Smashing."

Laine didn't look happy, and Harry hoped she wasn't about to pitch a fit.

"You can use my broom. I'll fly with Harry."

"You don't understand. I'm really not great at flying. You lot are all Quidditch fanatics. I just like the handsome boys in uniform. If I fly, I'll slow you down."

"We're not going to be slow," Draco declared. "Daphne rides with Harry."

"Let me get my cloak."

Harry and Draco hurried to the dorm. Harry went straight for the magic mirror that would let him call Sirius. He tucked it into a pocket and wrapped his cloak around his shoulders. The Marauders Map went in another pocket. Harry had no chance to use the mirror. As he grabbed his invisibility cloak and tucked it under his arm, Draco was already headed back out to the common room.

"Let's go."

Harry led the way through the dungeons. When they arrived at the stairs leading up to the entrance hall, he stopped and pulled out the Marauder's Map.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

"What is that?" Laine said.

"That's not important now. The coast is clear. Follow me."

Up the stairs and outside into the warm spring air they followed him. The waxing crescent moon illuminated the path down to the Quidditch pitch. At the broom shed, Harry spoke the Slytherin password. Captain Bletchley had given it to him after the last match before bursting into sobs and making Harry promise to take the Cup back next year. The lock clicked open.

"This is barking, you know," Draco said as they collected their brooms. "If we try to go out the front gate, we'll set off the alarms. Let's go out through the Shrieking Shack."

"We'd never break the protective spells put up to keep Lupin inside."

"So what are we going to do?"

"We're going out through the Forbidden Forest."

"That's even dafter. It's not safe in there."

"We only need to go as far as to get off the grounds. Then we can take to the skies. It's actually best this way. Nobody will see us take off. Mount up."

Daphne easily fit behind Harry on the Firebolt. She wrapped her arms around him tightly. He swallowed a sudden hitch in his chest as they launched into the air. Harry bent low over the broomstick and zoomed down to the treeline.

As they pressed deeper into the forest, the moonlight grew dimmer, and they had to fly slowly to avoid crashing headfirst into trees. Harry wished that one of his Ravenclaw friends had been kind enough to share the Vision-Sharpening Charm. It was one of their house secrets, much like Slytherin's Self-Warming Charm.

The timber on the Hogwarts grounds was marginally friendlier than the rest of the forest. Draco and Millie had raced through this part of the forest last year. As they approached the divide, the trees came awake and began to attack.

"Dodge!" Harry yelled, diving under a thick branch.

It was very difficult to dodge when one couldn't see well. Daphe screamed, in terror, Harry thought. Draco and Millie were swearing.

Harry drew his wand and cast a Lumos. In the wandlight, he found himself hovering near a huge nostril. Startled, he pulled back.

It _was_ a nostril, part of a large, misshapen head. It was almost perfectly round and covered with tightly curling, close-growing hair the color of bracken. It had large, fleshy ears. The head seemed to sit directly upon the shoulders with little or no neck in between and was much larger in proportion to the body than a human head. The back, under what looked like a dirty brownish smock comprised of animal skins sewn roughly together, was very broad. The thing had legs as big as the tree trunks.

"Giant!" he screamed.

Indeed it was, and it swatted at Harry as he might a fly. Daphne shrieked again as he threw himself into the turn, her added weight making the Firebolt less responsive.

Behind him, the others tried to avoid the big, strong hands. Draco continued swearing sulphurously.

"Look out!"

Daphne's warning came just in time. Harry narrowly avoided an angry tree.

"Break off! Break off!"

Harry had had just about enough of these delays. He pulled the broomstick up.

"Get above the trees! Go!"

Harry looped around and broke free. The others followed, and he noticed that Ginny's broom had a few broken tail twigs.

"It's fine," she said, noticing him noticing. "What was that all about?"

"I swear it was a giant."

"What is a bloody giant doing in the forest?"

"We can ask Dumbledore when we get back."

"Now what?" Draco said.

"Now we head to London."

Harry took the point position as they headed south. He was thankful that he'd brought his warmest cloak. They had to fly above the clouds, and it was very cold up there. They all cast the Self-Warming Charm, but after an hour, Harry was beyond thankful that Daphne was snuggled up with him. Being able to share body heat was all that kept him from turning into an Everlasting Icicle.

"Cold enough for you?"

"I thought it was warm earlier," she said.

"After the OWLs, we'll have to look up a few things about the atmosphere."

As they approached London, Harry had two problems. Firstly, the cloud cover began to break. Secondly, he had no idea how to get into the Ministry.

Harry brought the group to a halt.

"Does anyone know how to get into the Ministry?"

"I do," Laine said firmly. "You didn't think I'd let Ginny set off without knowing that, did you?"

"How?"

"We'll use the visitor's entrance. I used it with my father when he applied for his job."

"Do you remember where it is?"

"Yes. We've got to get to Charring Cross station."

"If we go any further, we run a huge risk of being seen. Does anyone know how to cast a Disillusionment Charm?"

Nobody else did. Harry tapped each of his friends on the head and said the words clearly. " _Aspectus lux inflectam!_ "

A shimmering wave descended over each of them. Harry hadn't quite got the hang of the spell, and it wasn't taught at Hogwarts until the seventh year. It would do well enough for now. In fact, it was a good thing he wasn't perfect with the spell. They'd still be able to see each other.

Laine led the way as they swooped down towards the Thames. If not for their urgent mission, it would have even been fun.

Now that they were not at such great altitudes, Harry felt more comfortable about slipping out the magic mirror.

"Sirius Black!"

"Harry Potter! What's with all the wind?"

"Sirius, big things are happening. I need you."

Sirius' tone lost all playfulness. "Where are you?"

"We're about to go inside the Ministry. Voldemort's going to kill Elan and Percy if we don't stop him."

"Who's 'we'?"

"Me, Draco, Millie, Daphne, Laine, and Ginny."

"I'm on my way. We'll talk later about jumping into reckless situations."

"I had to. Ginny was going to go regardless. I've got to watch her back."

"Be careful."

"Come quickly."

Harry tucked the mirror away.

"Calling for backup?" Daphne said in his ear.

"The six of us against Voldemort and who knows how many Death Eaters? You bet I am."

"How long do you think it'll take him to get here? Harry, I don't mind telling you I'm scared senseless."

"It's going to be okay, Daphne. We'll sneak in, rescue Elan and Percy, and be back at school in time to have a cup of hot cocoa before bed."

At long last, they touched down.

"Hurry!"

They attracted many strange looks as they hurried through the streets of London, which were busy even at this hour.

In a somewhat less than prestigious neighborhood, there was a dead-end alley with a phone box at the end.

"Everyone inside," Laine ordered.

All six of them fit inside, the first proof that magic was at play here.

Laine picked up the receiver, but she held the wrong end to her ear. Harry gently corrected her, but she elbowed him in the gut.

"What is the stupid number?"

"You need a secret code?" Ginny said.

"You could hardly ring the operator and ask for the Ministry of Magic," Harry replied.

"That's it!" Laine said. "Spell the word magic using the buttons."

She quickly dialed 6-2-4-4-2.

A cool female voice sounded inside the telephone box, not from the receiver in Laine's hand, but as loudly and plainly as though an invisible woman were standing right beside them. 

"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business."

"Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, Laine Slater, Ginny Weasley, Daphne Greengrass, and Millicent Bulstrode. We've got a hostage situation."

"Thank you," said the cool female voice. "Visitors, please take the badges and attach them to the front of your robes." 

Half a dozen badges slid out of the metal chute where returned coins normally appeared. Daphne scooped them up and handed them mutely to Harry over Ginny's head; he glanced at the topmost one, Harry Potter, Hostage Negotiation. 

"Visitors to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wands for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium." 

The floor of the telephone box shuddered. They were sinking slowly into the ground. Harry watched apprehensively as the pavement seemed to rise up past the glass windows of the telephone box until darkness closed over their heads. Then he could see nothing at all; he could hear only a dull grinding noise as the telephone box made its way down through the earth. After about a minute, though it felt much longer to Harry, a chink of golden light illuminated his feet and, widening, rose up his body, until it hit him in the face and he had to blink to stop his eyes from watering. 

"The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant day," said the woman's voice. 

The door of the telephone box sprang open.

The Atrium was empty. Even the security desk was unmanned, a fact which made Harry very nervous. They hurried to the lifts.

"The Exile Room is in the Department of Mysteries," Laine said.

"Level nine," Harry added. Everyone looked strangely at him. "Never mind."

Once again, Harry found himself in front of that plain black door. It opened silently, and they all went inside. The others gaped at the spinning, but Harry knew the trick of this room from watching Dumbledore.

"We're looking for the Exile Room," he said politely.

The door to their right opened. A stone hallway lay beyond. Harry drew his wand and led the way. The hallway opened up after a few yards into a dimly lit and rectangular amphitheatre with stone stairs descending approximately twenty feet. There was a raised stone dais in the centre, on which stood a stone archway that looked so ancient, cracked and crumbling that Harry was amazed the thing was still standing. Unsupported by any surrounding wall, the archway was hung with a tattered black curtain or veil which, despite the complete stillness of the cold surrounding air, was fluttering very slightly as though it had just been touched. 

Six black-robed Death Eaters stood casually near the archway. Three wore the anonymous white mask. Three were umasked, and Harry recognized them immediately: the Lestranges. Voldemort was not there.

"We have visitors," one of the Lestranges said. He was a thin man, his face gaunt. He seemed malnourished.

"As our Lord said, Rabastan," the other replied. He was thick in the body, and his face seemed devoid of emotion.

"Don't just stand there," the first one called up to them. "I hate shouting. Come down here."

"Be careful, everyone," Harry cautioned. "People in masks cannot be trusted. Wands out, but keep them hidden."

They slowly descended the stone steps. Harry felt a thousand times more exposed and vulnerable than he'd been during the first task. There he'd only been facing a dragon. His skin was practically crawling with the need to get out of the room and away from these very dangerous wizards.

Bellatrix watched them. Though she too had a gaunt face, she was still a strikingly beautiful woman. Her black hair was curly, thick, shining dark hair, and long eyelashes decorated heavily hooded eyes. She sneered at them, her nose turned up arrogantly. Harry knew she was the most dangerous of all the Death Eaters.

The pointed archway looked much taller from where Harry now stood than it had when he'd been looking down on it from above. Still the veil swayed gently, as though somebody had just passed through it.

One of the masked Death Eaters stepped forward tentatively. "Is it? You there, is your mother Renee duMonde?"

Daphne's face grew pale. "How do you know that name?" she demanded.

"You look so much like her. You are about the right age. You are the daughter she always wanted."

Daphne raised her wand, held in a trembling fist. "What is your name?"

"I am called Dolohov, and so too once was your mother."

"She's your sister or something?"

"She was my wife. You are our daughter."

The silence was roared in their ears.

"No," Daphne moaned. "No, that's not true."

"It is true. When I was captured and sent to Azkaban, she pleaded ignorance -- a thoroughly honest plea, that -- and was granted clemency. She immediately had our marriage dissolved. Claimed bewitchment."

"Plenty of good people were bewitched."

"Then she married some new money Charmer. She never told you about me, let you think you were his child, and here you are. And here am I."

"That doesn't make us anything!" Daphne shouted. "It just means you were a bad mistake, and Mum could do a lot better. Well she did!"

"We also had a son, you know. Jehan, a fine, strong name. An old name. I understand he has done quite well for himself, despite being raised by that upstart Greengrass. He has good breeding."

Jehan Dolohov was Daphne's brother? Harry knew that he'd been a Slytherin sixth year in Harry's first year, but she'd never let on.

"I swore I'd take that whore apart bit by bit. Maybe I'll settle for sending you back to her instead \-- in pieces!"

"Steady, Dolohov," said Rabastan. "Don't be hasty. We have something to get first."

Rabastan was a commanding figure when he wasn't fawning at the feet of Voldemort. He was a part of the Inner Circle and so commanded utmost respect. The other Death Eaters would not even stand too close to him.

"It's come down to this, boy," he said disdainfully to Harry. "We know you took the prophecy. We went down to the Hall. One of ours was snatched away by Portkey. Only those who are named in a prophecy have the power to remove the globe, and my Master did it not. Therefore you took it, and you will tell us where it is. If not, I shall inflict unworldly agony upon you and your friends."

"Suppose I did take it," Harry said, trying to stall for time, "and that's only supposing. I'm going to allow you that point only for the sake of offering a counterargument to it which further reinforces my argument that I did not. Even if I did take it, what would stop me from giving it to other people once I'd gotten it? What if I gave it to Dumbledore and he brought it to Hogwarts? What if it's in Gringotts? I couldn't give it to you even if I had taken it. Which I didn't, by the way."

"Silence, Potter. If you give me the prophecy, I might think about returning the blood traitors to you."

"You certainly won't be killing them tonight."

"That depends on you. Are you going to trade for the traitors or not?"

"Where's Percy? What have you bastards done to him?"

"Weasley? Oh, nothing much. Nothing he won't be able to forget with years and years of therapy."

"If this prophecy is so important to Voldemort, you can hand them both over."

"You dare speak his name!" Bellatrix shrieked. "You filthy half-blood!"

"Would you believe my blood is actually purer than his? Funny story, my mum was actually a witch, but his dad was actually a Muggle. Can you believe that? A Muggle-"

"Blasphemy!" Her pretty features were now distorted with rage.

"His mum must have been one ugly witch, because she couldn't find a wizard who'd have her. It's true. She must have bewitched some Muggle and had herself a nice little fantasy. Then it ended badly, she probably killed herself, and a little boy named Tom Marvolo Riddle ended up in a Muggle orphanage."

"Do not blaspheme!"

"It's the truth! You're following a lie! Voldemort is a lie! It's not even a real name. He just made it up!"

"Where's my brother? I want to see him now!" Draco yelled.

"You will see him in hell, nephew."

"If we give you the prophecy, will you let him go?"

"Yes," Rabastan said forcefully, clearly trying to maintain order.

"Then bring them."

"Your bargaining posture is highly dubious, but very well. As a show of faith." Rabastan gestured tersely to one of the masked Death Eaters, who opened a side door. He levitated two bodies out.

"Now give us the prophecy."

"Not just yet," Harry said. "Ginny, check them out."

Ginny stepped forward and took a good look at Percy. "He's alive," she called. "Looks like he's been stunned."

"Can you wake him up?"

"I think so."

"Not yet," Rabastan interrupted. "First, the prophecy."

"I told you, I don't have it."

"You lie, Potter."

"No, it's too hard to keep track of lies. The truth is much simpler. I can't give it to you because it's smashed -- destroyed."

"You wouldn't have dared."

"You don't know me very well. I really didn't want Voldemort to have it, you see, and I knew he'd find it wherever we hid it. The only thing to do was destroy it."

"Tell me the prophecy!"

"Ah, now _that_ I could do. I did listen to it before I broke the sphere."

"Now, Potter!"

"No. I don't think so."

Harry raised his wand.

" _Accio_ Percy!"

" _Accio_ Elan!" Draco shouted a second later.

The two men soared through the air, pulled by the force of magic. Ginny clung to Percy's arm and was carried with him.

"Attack!" Rabastan yelled. "Execute the others if you must, but leave Potter alive for the Dark Lord!"

"Fall back! Get out of here!" Harry screamed. He stepped to the front to prevent any of the Death Eaters from casting the Killing Curse. They would never risk their lord's wrath by accidentally hitting him with it.

Daphne, Laine, and Millie remembered their drills from the Duelling Club and cast Protego. The overlapping shield protected everyone. There was no real cover here, so they would be standing toe-to-toe.

Harry sent a Blasting Curse. Draco cast a Slicing Curse. Both were blocked as the Death Eaters scattered. Flashes of light began to shoot back and forth.

There were six Death Eaters, and only six students. Harry knew they were out-classed, but they couldn't pull back either without exposing their rear. He hoped Sirius brought backup soon.

They couldn't take the time to revive Elan and Percy, not that they had wands to defend themselves with in any case. Ginny, behind the shield, levitated Percy and retreated down the hallway towards the door.

"Take Elan too," Draco urged. He cast a Tongue-Twister Curse at one of the two masked Death Eaters that Harry designated "Tall" before begining an exchange with Rodolphus.

"Stupid little girl," Dolohov taunted Daphne. "Never thought to do the math, did you? Never figured out there was no way you could be his daughter. Never wondered who your true father is."

Harry sent a Bludgeoner at Dolohov. The murderous knave was forced to pay attention to Harry instead. Curse and counter began to fly.

Laine stepped to Harry's side and cast a Stunner across the field of combat at Rodolphus. He didn't dodge quickly enough, and he went sprawling on the floor. Draco flashed a grin of thanks.

"Nicely done," Harry said, batting aside Dolohov's Slicing Curse. "Help Millie!"

Draco turned to help Daphne, who was duelling with the other masked Death Eater, whom Harry designated "Short". He was quickly on the defensive, and he began to pull back.

Laine and Millie were duelling Bellatrix. She was more than a match for them, and she seemed to delight in toying with them. She wasn't even casting quickly. She blocked or avoided any offense the girls tried, seeming to enjoy the hunt.

"Aww, widdle girls want to pway at battle," she mocked, sounding as though she were talking to a baby. "Do they have what it takes to survive?"

Bellatrix hurled a Cruciatus, and Harry's heart jumped into his throat as they dodged out of the way. The other Death Eaters, not wishing to anger Voldemort by accidentally killing or permanently damaging Harry, had been holding back. Now Bellatrix had crossed that boundary. She was playing, but it was for keeps.

Harry could not assist the girls. Dolohov was a nasty bit of work. He was skilled at non-verbal magic, and Harry felt his strength draining with every Protego he was forced to cast.

Rabastan had been merely watching the fight. Perhaps he thought four Death Eaters a match for six children (five, since Ginny was pulling the older boys out of the room). Even though Laine had Stunned one, her wand was needed to help Millie with Bellatrix.

"Come here you great fool," Rabastan commanded, and he removed the Tongue-Twister from Tall. "Get in there."

The Death Eaters were trying to flank them from both sides. Rabastan cast a Blasting Curse. Harry couldn't get his wand around in time to counter it.

The explosion sent Harry hurtling through the air. The girls shrieked with terror. Harry quickly got to his feet. He spied Daphne nearby, and she was writhing on the floor. He rushed to her side and cast a Protego over them.

"I'm okay," she wheezed, the wind knocked out of her. "Look out!"

Dolohov was running up to them, and the purple spell he cast went right through Harry's shield. Daphne screamed in agony as her skin began to burn with unholy light.

Harry didn't know the spell, had no reversal. He went on the attack, defeating the Death Eater her only hope. He launched a volley of distracting hexes followed by a wave of fire. Dolohov countered with a blast of water. Harry turned the water into ice, forming sharp daggers that he sent speeding towards his enemy.

Dolohov blocked the ice with a shield and fired off a series of red spells. Harry ducked and dodged out of the way. He abandoned the exchange and caused a stone to shoot out of the floor, just under Dolohov's foot. The Death Eater lurched to his left, and Harry nailed him with a Body-Bind and a Stunner, and his struggles ceased.

There was no time to rest, however. Millie, Ginny, and Laine had taken out Tall and Short. Though half of the Death Eaters were down, the three most dangerous ones remained.

Bellatrix dueled with Draco, her casting snappy and vicious. She looked to cause agony, and the spells were designed to inflict injury rather than kill. He was sweating, barely countering some of her quicker spells, and he'd already taken one in the leg.

The Lestrange brothers fought with Laine, Ginny, and Millie. The girls were working well as a team. Laine was shielding while the other two attacked. Every so often, Ginny would help her out. It was working fairly well until Rabastan used a Banishing Charm on a sliver of marble from an exploded bench. Millie went down with a scream and a shower of blood, the shield being effective only against magic.

Harry softened the floor under Rabastan's feet. He began to sink into the rock. Thrown off balance, his blue curse went high, and Harry was able to hit him with a Bludgeoner. He was knocked over and sank into the rock. His wand hand disappeared, and Harry instantly changed the rock back, trapping him.

"Help Draco!" he shouted. Laine turned away.

Harry instantly was forced to parry a Jelly-Legs Jinx from Rodolphus, and he felt himself losing ground. He wanted to help his best mate, but Rodolphus was taking all of his attention.

Harry lost himself in the flow of spell and counter. Rodolphus was very good, and even with Ginny's help, he was hard-pressed. This couldn't keep on. He couldn't keep track of what was happening all around him. It was a swirling mass of confusion and coloured spells. If only he could stop to catch his breath. Harry's casting was slower, his body less responsive. He was tired.

A voice behind him screamed, "Duck!"

Harry threw himself to the ground and heard a loud quack as a mallard duck flew through the air like an arrow and struck Rodolphus in the face. He shouted and sputtered. He'd probably gotten feathers in his mouth. Sirius came rushing to Harry's side.

"Sirius, thank Merlin!"

"You look like you could use a hand."

"What gave you that impression? I thought we were holding our own quite nicely."

"Oh, I'll leave you to it, then?"

Rodolphus disentangled himself from the duck.

"If you make me finish him on my own, I'll hex you myself."

Sirius laughed and threw a Finger-Locker Curse at Rodolphus. He parried it and also Harry's Disorientation Jinx before firing off a Cruciatus, which they dodged neatly.

Remus and Tonks were taking on Rabastan, who had freed himself from the stone floor. Something on her hand glittered and sparkled with every movement of her wand. It was distracting Harry, who could see it out of the corner of his eye. It must have also distracted Rabastan, because he caught a Bludgeoner and was thrown against the wall.

Tall and Short immediately took up where he had left off. They had been trying to revive Dolohov, but he was still stiff like a board. They abandoned the task and engaged the couple.

The blond man and the dark woman faced each other, neither casting a curse. They paid no attention to the chaos swirling around them. Each was totally focused on the other, wands out but not yet pointed.

"Well, well, if it isn't Lucky himself come to wescue sweet, widdle, baby Dwaco. Cousin, dear cousin, how _are_ my beloved sisters?"

Bellatrix's posture changed. She was languid, almost casual.

Mister Malfoy stared disdainfully at Bellatrix. "Your family is ashamed of you."

Her wand snapped up, and she was no longer playful.

She snarled. "You're all blood traitors! Every single one of you! You will die in agonizing pain, Lucius, and the worms will eat your eyes. They will devour your tongue, yet you will still scream. It will be music to my ears. You will beg for the sweet release of death, and I may be sated enough to grant it."

"You always did talk too much, Bella. I look forward to shutting your mouth. Permanently."

" _Crucio!_ "

Mister Malfoy ducked out of the way and countered with a non-verbal, purple, glowing net. She sprang over it in a single bound.

They didn't cast quickly. Each spell was carefully considered and almost measured. They seemed to dance around each other. He stalked her like a great cat, seeming to flow across the floor in one fluid motion. His eyes were narrow, intent only on her.

"What's the matter, Lucky? Scared to engage? I see the rumours are true."

He ignored her taunts and sent a second silent spell to ensnare her. She slipped sideways, casting a non-verbal of her own. He deflected it up towards the ceiling.

He summoned a flood of small round stones and sent them skittering across the floor. She paid no attention to them, trying the Cruciatus again. He used a Banishing Charm and a broad sweeping motion. All the stones were propelled at high velocity, but her shield deflected the stones to either side. She called up a great fire, and the stones melted and became lavarocks. Meteors crashed down on his shield, and he turned the fire to acid spray, which caused the ground to bubble and hiss. She stepped back, her shield failing.

She cast a Banishing Charm, but her aim was off, and Mr. Malfoy was able to sidestep it.

Bellartix's aim was off, but it was also perfect -- perfectly deadly.

The Banishing Charm flew across the room and nailed Laine directly in the chest. Surprise filled her eyes, and her lips, the soft lips that Harry had kissed so many times, formed an 'O'. She was tossed into the air like a rag doll, limbs limp as though boneless. Laine soared through the archway and vanished from sight.

There was a deafening crack of thunder. Harry's ears rang as the gold locket he had given to Laine for Christmas fell to the floor.

"Laine!"

The scream was torn from Harry's chest, shredding his throat on the way out. He bolted from Sirius' side, nearly knocking over Rodolphus as he ran towards the veil.

"Harry, no!" Sirius shouted. He crumpled the off-balance Rodolphus with a Stunner and flashed into his dog form. With a quick bound and lunge, his teeth latched onto Harry's robes, jerking him to the ground.

"Laine!"

Harry struggled to rise. He had to get to Laine, had to help her.

"She's gone, Harry. She's gone."

"No!"

"Nobody comes back from the veil."

Sirius' words crashed through his mind, obliterating his sanity. Laine couldn't be gone. Where had she gone? She'd be back in just a moment.

"I'm sorry, Harry."

What would Sirius have to be sorry about? He hadn't done anything. Everything was fine.

He glanced around. The battle was wrapping up. Rodolphus was Stunned; Rabastan was tied up; Dolohov was stiff and petrified; Tall and Short were stuck together, chest to chest and helpless.

Then his eyes fell on Bellatrix.

She stood triumphant, gleeful and mad.

Harry was going to kill her.

With a primal roar, he launched himself off the floor and dashed directly towards her. She cackled with laughter and ran from the room. He gave chase, Sirius coming after him but tripped up by debris from the stone benches.

Harry chased after Bellatrix down the corridor to the spinning room, but the door slammed in his face and the blue lights whirled. He pounded on it ineffectively, but when it finally opened for him, she was gone.

"Which way did she go? I want to follow the last person who was here!"

The room obliged, and after another spin, it deposited them in the black stone hallway. Laughter still echoed here, and Harry ran up the hall as fast as he dared. She was on the run, but he couldn't chance that she was luring them into an ambush.

The lift seemed to take forever. Harry was bouncing off the walls by the time the door opened.

In the Atrium, he finally caught up with her.

"Stop!" A silent Leg-Locker escaped his wand.

She deflected it almost lazily.

"You killed Laine."

"Are you angry with me, baby Potter? Was she your friend?"

He seethed, unable to respond.

"Or was she more than that? Maybe an admirer of the famous Harry Potter? Did she keep your bed warm? Get you all hot and bothered?"

"Shut up!"

"Ooh, I think so. So what now, baby Potter? Going to kill me?"

Sirius came dashing up across the Atrium.

"Harry, don't let her bait you."

"She deserves to die. You know what she's done."

"Are you going to do it, Potter? Widdle babies can't use Unforgiveable Curses."

"They may not have what it takes to stop you, Bella, but I do."

"You again, Lucky?"

"Me again. Surrender now."

"To you? Never."

"Then prepare to fall."

Their stalking match continued. There were several furious exchanges.

Then, in a momentary lapse of reason, Bellatrix turned her face from Harry. He raised his wand.

" _Crucio!_ "

Bellatrix screamed bloody murder and fell to the floor. Blood gushed from her nose, but she was laughing still.

"Harry!"

The shocked look on Sirius' face rattled Harry from his anger. He stood there, chest heaving, breath coming in rapid bursts. His wandpoint drooped. He felt utterly drained. It had taken the last of him to cast that spell.

Bellatrix got to her knees, eyes glittering with evil.

"Never cast an Unforgiveable Curse, have you, Potter?" she panted. "You have to really _mean_ them. Righteous anger will only cause brief pain. You've got to want to make someone suffer.

She stood up. "I want you to suffer. You've made my master very cross indeed. I'll make you beg his forgiveness. You'll beg like the dogs you are."

Lucius thrust his wand out, intercepting the curse meant for Harry.

Lucius continued the duel, and Harry watched in numbness. He leaned against Sirius, barely able to stand.

She fell back and touched her wand to the inside of her arm.

"My Lord! The battle is lost. We have failed. Help us! Send reinforcements, I beg of you."

"Bellatrix, you surprise me. You can hex a child, one who hasn't even sat for O-levels, but you can't defeat a proper wizard in single combat. I thought you were made of sterner stuff. Did your stay in Azkaban weaken your powers?"

"Silence, Lucius!" She flung another Cruciatus at him.

He sidestepped neatly and again tried to ensnare her, this time with chains. As she dodged, he dodged with her and cast a Bludgeoner. It caught her square in the face, and she went flying back to crash into one of the fireplaces.

She tried to rise again, but a pale white hand gently pressed her back down again.

"Bellatrix, you have called for me, and I have come. Why do I find you like this? Do you not know when to retreat with prudence? Where are the others? You were seven tonight; seven, that most powerful of numbers. Yet you fail me. Lord Voldemort does not tolerate failure."

Sirius hissed under his breath. He and Mr. Malfoy exchanged a sharp look. They began to whisper a quick battle plan.

Voldemort was not the same as before. He had made Pettigrew's body taller, less pudgy, and the shape of the face was markedly more serpentine. The hair, which had been pasty and thinning was now dark as coal and abundant.

"My Lord, the others are below. The Order has likely captured them."

He stroked her hair, smoothing back the tangled locks. It was almost tender.

"Then more the fools they. What of the prophecy?"

"Potter claims to have destroyed it. The orb we found was a portkey that snatched away Avery."

"Well-played, Dumbledore," Voldemort said softly. "Very well-played. We shall leave this place, Bellatrix."

"As you command, my Lord."

"Not just yet," Sirius said boldly.


	27. Priori Incantatem

Harry was exhausted. Duelling with Death Eaters, chasing after Bellatrix, and attempting an Unforgiveable Curse had taken him to his limits. He could barely even process that his most hated enemy was standing less than a few yards away.

Sirius stood between them, shielding Harry from harm as he'd sworn a Vow to do. He showed no fear, utterly confident despite facing the most evil wizard in fifty years or more.

Voldemort turned away from the prone figure of Bellatrix, who had been defeated. She smirked at them, sure once more that their deaths were nigh.

"Who dares speak to Lord Voldemort?"

"It's been awhile, snakeface." Sirius' tone was cold. "Don't you recognize me?"

"Sirius Black."

"The same. Your errand is in vain. The prophecy is destroyed."

"There are other ways to attain it."

"None of which will avail you."

"You boast too much, Black. I offer you the one chance to step aside."

"No."

"Then join me."

"Never."

"Then die."

Voldemort raised his wand.

"Nobody will die today."

"Lucius, the traitor. How good of you to come to me after spending the last year running like a coward."

"My Lord," he said with a sneer. His wand was held low, ready to strike like a serpent rising from the ground.

"Why do you mock me, Lucius? Even now I am prepared to forgive you if you beg loudly enough."

"You will get no such pleasure from me."

"Then I shall from your screams."

"So get on with it. You always did talk too much."

Voldemort smiled maliciously. "Every word I speak prolongs your worthless life another few moments. One would think you should be trying to get me to keep talking."

"I grew weary of the sound of your voice years ago."

Mr. Malfoy launched a volley of fireballs. Sirius lashed with a cascade of icicles. Voldemort countered with a wave of boiling water that extinguished the fire and melted the ice.

Sirius summoned a swarm of locusts. Mr. Malfoy conjured shards of jagged stone. Voldemort waved his wand in a circle rapidly, and a great wind blew, and the locusts were slain by the stones.

Now Voldemort went on the attack. He demolished the statue of magical bretheren to use the pieces. With a wave of his wand, they became a quartet of snarling wolverines.

Mr. Malfoy attacked directly with a Slashing Spell, and blood poured out on the floor as the rabid beasts collapsed.

Sirius changed the blood to acid, and the sizzling hiss sent chills up Harry's spine. Before Sirius could do anything else with the stuff, Voldemort pulled the edge of the floor up, tilting the surface. Sirius scrambled to avoid being dumped in the acid.

Voldemort summoned vines out from under the floor. They grabbed Mr. Malfoy by the ankles and quickly snaked up his legs. He tried to burn them, but there were too many. He tripped and fell down, and the vines were upon him.

Sirius cast a spell to rescue him, but Voldemort intercepted it. He pushed Sirius back with a Bludeoning Hex, the sheer force of which crunched a few inches of the floor into dust at the edge of Sirius' shield.

Mr. Malfoy struggled with the vines, momentarily out of the fight. Sirius was stuck on defense, and Voldemort's spells came fast and furious.

The shield collapsed, and Sirius wasn't quick enough to restore it. He took three arrows in his wand arm and fell with a grunt of pain.

Voldemort stepped closer. "Now you see that it is foolish to resist Lord Voldemort."

"I've always been a slow learner," Sirius said with clenched teeth.

"Know that your death will be quick. _Avada-_ "

" _Expelliarmus!_ "

Somehow Harry found the energy within himself to act. He couldn't lose Sirius too. Voldemort was forced to parry Harry's spell, meaning he couldn't kill Sirius.

The cold glare nearly frosted the room.

"Potter. Interfering and meddlesome, just like your parents. Did you truly destroy the prophecy?"

"Damn right."

"A bold play."

"Thank you."

"You play very well. I think I enjoy this game. You listened to the prophecy didn't you?"

"Maybe."

"You did. I can see it in your eyes. You will tell me now."

"No, I don't think so."

"Then I will take it. _Legilimens!_ "

Harry found himself thrown into a realm of mist and shadow. Thunder and lightning raged around him, but Harry drew upon the silence of his mind. A silver dome descended over him, protecting him from the lightning strikes that blasted the ground into jagged splinters.

The rage gradually wore itself out. Harry pushed his shield out further and further, finally coming back to the Atrium.

Voldemort lowered his wand, shaking his head.

"You'll never know!" Harry shouted triumphantly.

"I have nothing more to say to you, Potter," Voldemort said quietly. "You have irked me too often, for too long."

Adrenaline spiked through Harry's bloodstream.

"Good bye."

As Voldemort cast the Killing Curse, Harry rolled out of the way. He came to his feet immediately, countering with a Slashing Curse aimed at the eyes. Voldemort ducked, moving with a quickness belied by the body he inhabited.

Harry moved in a clockwise circle. "The Order is on the way, Riddle. Dumbledore will be here soon."

"I do not fear Dumbledore. _Crucio!_ "

Harry leaned out of the way. " _Impedimentia!_ "

"You jest, Potter. Such a simple spell cannot hold me."

"I figured I'd start with the basics."

" _Imperio!_ "

The force of Voldemort's mind was overwhelming. A serpentine voice whispered, _Drop your wand._

It was amazingly impossible to resist. Harry felt his will crumbling.

With a tremendous effort, Harry shoved Voldemort's mind away. His wand came back up to a ready position.

" _Infractus manus!_ " If Harry could make Voldemort drop his wand, the fight would be over.

Voldemort twirled in place, and the spell flew by him.

"You're pathetic, Potter. Weak and pathetic. Just like your parents. Even they would be ashamed of you."

"Your mum's just bursting with pride, is she?"

" _Crucio!_ "

Harry barely dodged that one.

"Sore spot, eh? Can't say I blame you. I'd be embarassed about being a hypocrite too."

"Shut up, Potter! I will kill you in a most painful manner."

"You're not having much luck so far."

" _Avada Kedavra!_ "

" _Diffindo!_ "

Their spells collided in mid-air with a crash of thunder. A bolt of golden lightning connected their wands, and the vibrations would have shaken Harry's wand out of his hand if his fingers hadn't clenched up tight. Voldemort looked as astonished as Harry felt.

Without warning, Harry and Voldemort began to float into the air. The golden thread connecting them splintered. They remained connected, but hundreds of other beams arced all around them, forming a golden dome.

Voldemort tried to break the connection. Harry, figuring that anything his enemy thought was bad must therefore be good, held on with both hands.

A beautiful and unearthly song swelled, coming from the web of light. Harry had heard it once before, in Dumbledore's office, as Fawkes the phoenix perched on Sirius' shoulder. It was a hopeful sound, welcoming and inviting. It reverberated through his body, seeming to come from within.

_Don't break the connection._

Harry didn't know if he were imagining the voice, but he decided to follow its advice.

The instant he made the decision, holding on to his wand became near-impossible. The vibrations got much stronger, and great beads of light appeared, sliding up and down the connecting thread.

His wand grew hot in his hand. Whatever these beads of light were, they were bad news. Harry bent every ounce of his willpower to forcing the beads back towards Voldemort. The vibrations calmed, but now the Dark Lord looked uncertain and afraid.

With one last push, the bead touched Voldemort's wand. It began to scream, as though in pain. Smoke began to pour from it, twisting into the shape of a person. Harry didn't recognize her, but she was followed by more women, several men, and more than a dozen children. Then came Mr. Fortescue and the other victims from the Diagon Alley attack.

"Don't let go," they said in strange, echoey voices. It seemed as though they were far away. "Fight! Don't give up!"

Harry's breath caught in his throat as two more people came out. Though they were grey and washed out, he could not mistake the looks of love in their eyes.

"Mum?" he whispered. "Dad?"

"Hang on, my son."

"When the connection is broken, we'll only be able to stay but briefly. We'll hold him back, but you've got to run for it. You can make it to the Apparition point and escape."

"I can't leave. What about Sirius? What about Mister Malfoy? My friends are down below."

"Dumbledore is on his way. Can you hold out?"

"If I have to."

The vibrations grew stronger. Voldemort looked terrified now that he was surrounded by his victims.

"Get away! You're not real! I'm not afraid of ghosts! Don't touch me!"

"They are real, snakeface! They're all your victims coming back to pass judgment. The verdict is guilty as hell! And you're going to die!"

"I cannot die!"

"The time is now, Harry."

"No, mum, just a little more time!"

"There is no time. You've got to move now. I love you."

"I love you, son."

"I love you too!"

He yanked the point of his wand up. The golden thread snapped. The shadows all rushed at Voldemort, and with a shriek of fury he struggled to get free.

Harry took the moment to try a Stunner, but it bounced off the ghostly figures. He rushed to Sirius, determined to Side-Along his godfather out of the Ministry. He was strong now, and though Sirius was a full-grown man, Harry was able to drag him with ease.

"Tom!" came a shout.

The ghosts disappeared, and Voldemort turned on Dumbledore with a fury. He launched a fireball and retreated towards the Apparition point.

"Damn you, Dumbledore!" he shouted before Disapparating. Bellatrix dove for the fireplace and Flooed away.

Dumbledore waited a moment to be sure that it wasn't a trick, then he turned to Harry.

"Harry, are you all right?"

Harry was completely dazed that it was all suddenly over and that he had survived. "No."

"Are you injured?"

"No."

"Let us see to the others."

Dumbledore released Mr. Malfoy from the vines. He tapped Sirius' shoulder and the bleeding stopped.

"Dumbledore!"

Two more of the Order had arrived, Professor Moody and Auror Shacklebolt.

"Sirius, perhaps you can tell us what's going on here," Dumbledore invited.

"Remus and Tonks are down in the Department of Mysteries. We managed to capture a few Death Eaters."

"Is anyone hurt?"

"I don't know. Harry, is anyone hurt?"

"Millie and Daphne. Maybe Draco and Ginny too. Laine-" Harry choked.

Dumbledore looked at him sharply before giving a great sigh.

"I am deeply sorry for your loss, Harry."

Harry nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

Sirius put his arm around Harry's shoulders as they went back down in the lift. Harry followed along without seeing where they were going.

They passed through the spinning room and into the stone room.

Tonks was standing guard over three Death Eaters. Remus was tending the four children.

"Did you get them?" Tonks called.

"Who?" Sirius replied.

"Rodolphus and Rabastan managed to slip their bonds and get their wands back. They tore out of here in a hurry and managed to hex Ginny and Draco."

"Badly?"

"No, extremely well. Ginny's in rough shape. Daphne needs medical attention at once. Millie's arm is fairly mangled."

Harry stared at the veil, which still rippled slightly. It seemed that Laine must come back through. All the feelings in his heart told him that she had only stepped out for a moment.

A flash of gold on the floor caught his eye. He bent down and picked up the locket. It had finally opened. The glass on each half was cracked and broken. He traced the 'S' pattern with his index finger. Everything else about Laine had gone through the veil, yet this had remained.

"And what have we here? Percy! Elan!"

"We haven't been able to wake them. I think they've been dosed with Living Death."

"Fortunately Severus has a good antidote."

"Cousin, what is that shiny thing on your finger?"

"Can you believe it?"

"Congratulations, you two," Sirius said, turning to Remus. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"It only happened tonight. We were just in the middle of celebrating when you firecalled."

"Sorry, old friend."

"Think nothing of it."

Harry followed as they made their way back up to the Atrium. There they were able to Apparate.

"Tonks, if you would please take Miss Greengrass to Saint Mungo's? I must return to Hogwarts with the children and then return here."

Sirius held out his arm to Harry. Mister Malfoy had Elan cradled protectively in his arms. Shacklebolt had Percy. Remus took Millie.

"Mister Malfoy, will you and Miss Weasley be all right for a moment? Side-Along Apparition is best reserved for only one passenger."

"We'll be fine," Draco said. He had one arm wrapped around Ginny, half-holding her up.

"We won't be but a moment."

With the horrid compression feeling, they appeared outside the gates of the school. They creaked open to admit them. 

Sirius released Harry.

"I've got to go get Draco and Ginny. We'll meet you in the hospital wing."

They could not wait for them. Millie's wounds had started bleeding again.

"Go. See you soon."

When they arrived at the castle, however, they received a nasty shock. Professor Umbridge was waiting for them with her arms folded across her chest.

"There you are! What do you think you are about, taking students out of the castle in the middle of the night? They have OWL exams in less than forty-eight hours. Are you trying to jeopardize their futures?"

"Professor Umbridge," Dumbledore said, his tone flat-out distasteful. "We have no time for questions now. We must get these students under Madam Pomfrey's gentle care."

"How were they injured, Headmaster?" She moved with them up the stairs.

"There will be time enough for details later. There is more going on here than you know."

"I'm aware of that, Headmaster. That is why I asked you what happened."

"Far more, then, if you must. I am glad to see you, actually, for we must rouse Cornelius at once."

"Wake the Minister in the middle of the night?"

Whether Madam Pomfrey ever slept was a matter of some discussion around Hogwarts. She always seemed to be at her station or was quick to arrive in mere seconds. She was always calm and collected, healing her patients with cool skill and delicate art.

She stood up when they traipsed in, quite the party. The injured were laid on beds. Dumbledore and Umbridge left. Kingsley followed them. Remus and Mr. Malfoy stepped back to let Madam work. Millie required the most immediate attention.

"I'm going to get Professor Snape," Harry said.

"You stay put," she told him in no uncertain terms. "I'll Sticky Charm you to that bed if you even think about getting up."

"I'll get him, Harry," Remus said, looking at Mr. Malfoy who held Elan's hand to his forehead and was whispering.

Harry lay back and tried to calm down. So much had happened, and he was so tired, that he felt rather like the time he'd drank Unforgiveable Liquor only much more so.

Remus returned with Snape. He spoke quietly with Madam Pomfrey and drew out several phials from the pocket of his robes. Elan and Percy each received a dose of a pearlescent white potion, while Millie, whose wounds had been salved, got a glowing blue potion that smoked slightly.

Harry himself was just about to take a Restorative Draught when the door opened to admit Sirius, Draco, and Ginny.

"Ginny's hurt," Draco said immediately.

"I'm fine," she protested. "Draco's hurt."

"It's just a scratch."

"Both of you sit," Madam said sternly. "You're not leaving before the sun hits its zenith."

After much fussing and bustling, they were all bedded down. Sirius sat at Harry's bedside, clearly burning to ask a thousand questions, but he refrained. Harry didn't think he'd ever be able to sleep, but he succumbed to his exhaustion despite himself. He slept badly, his mind filled with images of pain and suffering. These were plain, old-fashioned nightmares, no Voldemort needed. Around dawn he gave up on sleeping entirely as a poor idea. Everyone else was hidden away behind curtains. He heard nothing but even, steady breathing.

The sunrise filled the hospital wing with brilliant red light. Shadows crept down the walls and then vanished entirely. Harry wondered how soon it would be until someone else woke up. Sirius was asleep in the chair, and Harry didn't have the heart to wake him.

A short while later, Professor Dumbledore entered the hospital wing for the first time in many hours. He seemed relieved that Harry was awake.

"Harry, I would like a word, if I may."

Harry was grateful simply to have someone to talk to other than himself. "Sure."

"I have spent the wee hours trying to make sense of what has happened. Perhaps you would be so good as to tell me what drew you to the Ministry."

"A vision, sir."

Dumbledore looked up sharply. "A vision?"

"Yes, sir."

"I thought you had mastered Occlumency."

"I have, sir. When Voldemort tried to get the prophecy from me, I fought him off."

"Well done. I am confused then. How did you see this vision?"

"I didn't."

The Headmaster sighed.

"Perhaps I should just let you tell me."

"Yes, sir. We were in the common room studying. Ginny and- and- and L-Laine came rushing out. They'd both had a vision. Voldemort told Bellatrix that he was tired of waiting for the Ministry to see sense and hand over the prophecy and that Elan and Percy were to be sent through the veil. Ginny was going to go save them. Draco was going to go with her. I knew if they went alone, they'd wind up dead themselves or worse, so I decided to go with them. Millie and Daphne had the bad luck to be there too."

"Or perhaps it was good luck that sent them with you to help."

"We could have used more help. I wanted to get more, but Ginny was adamant about going immediately. We snuck out of the castle, got our brooms from the broom shed, and flew into the Forbidden Forest."

"Quite clever."

"Sure. Did you know there's a giant in the forest?"

"I did. How is Grawp?"

"Is that its name? He tried to get us, but we made it out okay. Once we got airborne, we headed for London. I called Sirius to let him know we needed help. We used the visitor's entrance. We went down to the Department of Mysteries. The Death Eaters were there. One of them turned out to be Daphne's father.

"There was a big fight. We were losing. Then Sirius showed up with Remus and Tonks. We started to get the upper hand. Then Bellatrix knocked Laine through the veil. Things get a little fuzzy after that. I chased her up to the Atrium. Sirius and Mister Malfoy were right behind me. She was losing the fight, so she called for Voldemort. He answered. He duelled with them and was about to kill Sirius when I got involved. That's when things got weird."

"Weird?"

"Yeah. That's the only way I can put it." Fumbling for words, Harry described the golden thread, the dome, and the spirits he'd seen.

"I think it was really them. Then I broke the connection. You showed up and saved the day. Thank you."

"I wish I had gotten there sooner, Harry," Dumbledore said sadly. "I got the call from Sirius, but I had to alert the Aurors."

"We probably could have used them."

"Indeed. The rest, I think I know. Let us return to this vision. You say that Miss Weasley and Miss Slater both saw it?"

"Yeah. I don't know how. I'd felt Voldemort trying to break into my mind earlier that night, but I pushed him away. I don't know how he got into their heads."

"That is indeed a most troubling question. I shall think greatly upon it. That is probably enough questions for now. If I have further inqueries, I will find you."

"Yes, sir."

"Now for you. Are you all right, Harry? Is there anything I can do to help you?"

"No, sir."

"Please call upon me if you change your mind."

"Thank you, sir."

"I believe it is nearly time for breakfast to be served. I am famished, but I must speak with your godfather."

Sirius was yawning and rubbing at his eyes. "Is it morning already?"

At the table, Harry barely poked at the eggs, bacon, and kippers. He didn't feel like eating anything. He was soon joined by Pansy, Tracy, Crabbe, Goyle, and Blaise.

"Morning, Hair," Blaise said cheerfully. "You look exhausted. Burning a little midnight oil? You'll want to be well-rested for the OWLs."

Harry didn't respond, merely pushed his eggs around the plate.

"Where's your sidekick?"

"Which one? Theo's still asleep," Goyle reported. "Draco's already up and about somewhere."

"We haven't seen Notty get up for breakfast on weekends in months," Blaise commented.

"Lay off him," Tracy said.

"I wasn't! I was only saying. It's true. Can't a chap speak the truth anymore without being yelled at?"

"There's a reason for it."

"Which is?"

"None of your business, quite frankly."

"It's not fair that I'm the only one whe doesn't know."

"I don't know either," she snapped. "You don't see me whinging and complaining about it. Theo's been my friend for a very long time, and if he doesn't want to tell me, I'm going to honour that."

"He's told some of you."

"So what if he has?"

"Aren't you hurt that your old friend isn't confiding in you?"

"Not at all." Tracy sent her blonde hair whipping back and forth. "As long as he's talking to someone, I'm satisfied. If he weren't talking to anyone, then I'd be worried, but as it stands, I'm not."

Blaise gave up. "Hair, I wonder if we might look over Potions real quick after breakfast. I was reading up on Polyjuice and had a question."

Harry didn't even hear Blaise.

"Oi, Potter!"

"Huh?" Harry looked up and blinked rapidly.

"Can I ask you a question about Potions?"

At that moment, Harry couldn't have told him how to boil water.

"No."

"What?"

"He said no," Pansy jumped in. "Are you hard of hearing?"

"You harpies are enough to make any man go deaf, Cici."

"And I'll claw your eyes right out of your head," she promised. "Then you'll be deaf and blind."

"That sounds unpleasant. Can someone else help me then?"

"Only if it's quick," Tracy said. "We're scheduled to study Ancient Runes."

"I don't _take_ Ancient Runes, Tray."

"That's your own problem. We're certainly not to blame because you took Divination and Magical Creatures."

"Professor Timmons is pretty amazing. I've learned quite a lot of Arithmancy this term, but I still don't want to take it."

"At least you don't have to take the OWL this year."

"A small mercy."

"I wonder where Laine and Ginny are," Pansy said. "They've usually joined us by now."

At the mention of Laine's name, Harry flinched.

"Harry?" Tracy said with concern. "Are you okay?"

He didn't answer, just mashed the bacon into the eggs.

"Probably just nervous about the OWLs," Pansy said confidently. "He's always like this before a match."

"I wonder where Daphne and Millie have got off to."

"Maybe they wanted to get in some early morning brewing."

"That's a possibility. I know Daphne is worried about the practical."

Harry stayed out of the chit-chat until they were ready to crack the books again. He sat in the common room and stared listlessly at the same two sentences over and over again.

Draco made an appearance around noon.

"Draco, there you are. You've missed a lot of studying."

"Hi, Tracy. Pansy, can I talk to you for a moment?"

"Sure."

A minute later, Draco left the common room, and Pansy came back to the table. She didn't say anything, but the way she kept sneaking glances told Harry that she knew.

Harry gave studying his best, if futile, attempt until lunch. He let the others head up to the Great Hall without him. He was laying on his bed, hands behind his head, staring out the picture window when Tracy knocked on the door.

"Harry? May I come in?"

"Sure."

"Are you okay? You hardly ate anything at breakfast and now you've skipped lunch."

"I've just got a lot on my mind."

"The OWLs? You'll do great."

"No, not the OWLs." He didn't elaborate.

Tracy sat down on the edge of the bed. "Then what is it? Talk to me, Harry. Talk to me like you used to. We used to be able to tell each other anything."

"Yeah, we did." He looked at Tracy, her expression filled with concern. Her blonde hair fell forward into her face. Her blue eyes studied him, trying to penetrate his mind. They'd been such good friends once, and now Harry needed her again.

"Laine is gone."

"You broke up? Harry, that's awful. I'm so sorry."

"No," he said hoarsely. "She's _gone_. Forever."

Tracy sounded puzzled. "She's gone? I don't understand."

Harry's body was trembling now from the sheer effort of holding it in.

"Harry," Tracy whispered, horror creeping into her voice. "What's happened?"

"She's dead."

Harry barely whispered the words, but saying them aloud made them suddenly awful and real. His whole chest lurched, and he had to screw his eyes shut to stop tears from flowing. He buried his face in his arms and rested them on his knees.

Tracy reached for him, hugging him, and holding him tight. At her touch, the dam within him broke. Choking, sobbing, Harry clung to Tracy, soaking her robes with his hot tears.

"We snuck out last night. The Ministry. We had to rescue Elan and Percy. The Death Eaters were too much for us. Bellatrix blasted her through the- the veil. There was nothing I could do. I was going to kill her. I tried to get her, but I failed. I wasn't strong enough."

She smoothed his hair and rubbed circles on his back. She let him ramble, pouring out his heart.

When he had no more tears to cry, he pulled away and reached for a handkerchief. He'd made a mess of her robes, he rued, blowing his nose.

"Sorry," he said, casting a quick Cleaning Charm.

"Not even on my mind. It's not your fault."

"I should never have let her go."

"She made her choice, same as the rest, same as any of us would have."

"I shouldn't have let any of us go. It was such a trap. Why didn't I see it?"

"Why'd you go in the first place?"

"She and Ginny had a vision."

"A vision?"

"I know, Divination is bunk, but it was accurate. It just happened to be an accurate trap. They were expecting us."

"Was there a fight?"

"More like a war. It took two of us for every Death Eater, and we were still losing."

"Who's hurt? Millie and Daphne, right? That's why they haven't been around today."

He could only nod in shame. He'd gotten his friends hurt. It had been easy to be blasé with Snape about it, but now he had real consequences.

"Ginny too?"

"And Draco."

"The six of you went alone?"

"Yeah. Talk about stupid. I tried to call for help, but they got there too late."

"It's likely the only reason you came back at all."

"Yeah."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to criticize."

"I know. She would have gone anyway. She would have gone alone. Draco would have gone with her though, just the two of them."

"Of course. It was about blood. We move Heaven and Earth to protect our own."

"I know. I couldn't let them just go. I had to help."

"You did the right thing, Harry."

"That's what everyone keeps saying, but I got Laine killed."

"How?"

Harry found himself speechless. It was so obvious. "I let her come with us."

"You great prat," she said fondly. "Don't you understand? What compelled you to go also compelled Laine to go. She would have gone with Ginny even if you'd stayed behind. You couldn't have made her stay here except by raising your wand to her, and you're too much of a gentleman to do that. Your arguments were unpersuasive. You must therefore respect her choice, made as a free witch, to place her own life, which is hers to lose, in danger. If you are allowed to make that choice, why is she not?"

Harry fumbled for an answer.

"Because you're a boy and she's a girl? Because you're older than her? Laine was a fine duelist, as you well know. You were just outnumbered."

"I should have taken more people."

"You should have," she acknowledged. "Why didn't you?"

"Ginny said there wasn't time."

"Impatient, just like a Gryffindor."

"Are you saying it's Ginny's fault?"

"No. I'm saying that you can find a reason to blame anybody for anything. Usually things just happen. We Slytherins like to pride ourselves on our plans, but the truth is that nothing goes according to plan. There are too many other variables unaccounted for, like all the other plans of every single person alive, and a few ghosts thrown in for good measure. Life just happens, and the best you can do is live in the moment and make the best decisions you can at any given juncture, informed by the experiences you've had and the lessons you've learned.

"You did what you thought was right, and bad things happened. That's unfortunate, but now you've had a bad experience. You'll use what it teaches you, and next time your decision will be better. Laine is dead, but the rest of you are alive. Think about that. You went one on one with the Inner Circle of Death Eaters and only had one casualty. Do you know how insane that sounds to me? Harry, all six of you should have been sent through that veil on purpose, not just one by accident. You were strong enough to lead the others out of there."

"Not me," Harry said hoarsely. "Sirius, Remus, Tonks, and Mister Malfoy saved us. We got all of them but Bellatrix, and she got away. I chased her down. I wanted to kill her, but I wanted to hurt her more. I wanted to hurt her more than anything ever, even more than those barbaric Muggles I lived with all those years. I was just so angry."

"It's natural, Harry. It's all right to feel that way."

"Sirius caught up to us, then Mister Malfoy. You should have seen them, Tracy. They fight like nothing I've ever seen before. What we're doing in duelling club seems so silly by comparison."

"We're still learning, Harry. It would be dangerous for us to try that sort of stuff."

"I know, but now I think I understand a little better what we're up against. We need to be able to fight back like that. He won't wait for us to be ready."

Tracy nodded. "We'll just have to be smarter if we can't be stronger."

"Yeah."

They lapsed into silence, and Tracy continued to hold his hand. Harry felt much better after baring his soul, as though an immense weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He could breathe easier, without sobs threatening to come crashing out.

"Thanks for listening, Tracy."

She smiled at him, and he instinctively smiled back. "What are friends for?"

Tracy stayed with him, and Harry eventually fell into an exhausted sleep. Emotionally drained, he slept hard. He dreamed no dreams, and as he came awake, he heard Sirius calling for him. He blearily reached for the magic mirror.

"Sirius Black!"

"How are you, Harry?"

"Sleeping."

"Sorry to wake you."

"That's okay. I needed to get up anyway. I think it's nearly time for dinner. Where are you?"

"Dumbledore kicked me out of the castle. I'm at the Hog's Head."

"He kicked you out?"

"I was being a bit disruptive, I'll admit."

"You? Never."

Sirius laughed sharply. "I'm not to do anything that might interfere with students taking the OWLs. I just didn't want you to think I'd run off on you."

"I'd never think that, Sirius."

"I would hope not. So how are you, Harry? Really, I mean."

Harry sighed deeply.

"I've been so much better."

"I know, kiddo. I know."

"How'd you cope with losing your best friend?"

"I flew into a murderous rage. I was going to kill Peter. Even if I'd managed to do it, I still probably would have wound up in Azkaban. I had so much time to brood on that. I saw the same sort of thing in your eyes that night at the Ministry. I needed to stop you from making that sort of dreadful mistake."

"I feel like a piece of me is missing."

"That's because it is. She had a part of your heart, just like you have a part of hers. It's going to hurt for a long time. It still hurts me about your dad and mum. I suspect it always will. You just have to remember the good times. Tell the stories about them. Keep their memories alive. We can do that, Harry. We have a pensieve here at home. If you want to put all of your memories of Laine in it and see her again, you certainly may."

"Yeah?"

"I've been putting in memories of my years at school. Lots of good times with your parents and Moony. There's a lot of Peter, unfortunately."

"He really was your friend, wasn't he?"

"For a very long time. That's what I'm trying to figure out, actually, is where he started to turn against us. Moony's put a bunch of memories in as well."

"I'd like to see them."

"Of course, Harry. That's the other goal of the project."

Harry knew he would have a lot of free time if this upcoming summer was to be anything like last summer. What better way to spend it than by getting to know his parents?

"Thanks, Sirius. I'm going to get some sleep now."

"Pleasant dreams, kiddo. I love you."

"I love you too, Sirius."

Harry was still drained and not feeling particularly peckish, so he elected to skip dinner and turn in early. Though he slept very poorly that Saturday night, his nightmares were not accompanied by pain and burning in his scar. He almost would have welcomed the pain for a distraction from the numbness he felt. He got up just as the sun was rising.

He put himself through his normal morning routine by habit. He wasn't focused on any of it, but he found himself paying attention to how he was doing things.

He wet the toothbrush before applying toothpaste. Did he always do that or did he ever put the toothpaste on dry? He pondered the question as he brushed.

Back in the dormitory he reached for a clean pair of trousers. He stared at them for a moment. Which leg did he put in first? He had started to go with his right, but did he always? He tried the left. It didn't feel quite correct. He pulled his trousers up and paused again. Did he fasten the button and then zip or the reverse?

He stared at his socks in utter dismay. Both on before the shoes were attempted or one foot squared away before the other?

Harry wondered if he was starting to crack. How could it be so abominably hard to dress himself when he did it every day?

In his head he knew Laine was gone, but his heart hadn't accepted it. She'd simply vanished, leaving no trace. It was entirely possible that she might bound back into the room at any moment.

He half expected her to be waiting for him in the common room. His immediate guilt over her death had abated, but accepting that she was never coming back would take time. He morosely wondered how many times he would turn to say something to her today only to find her absent.

Harry sought the company of his friends today. They sat in the courtyard under the clock tower. The breeze felt good on his face. Tracy shuffled a deck of cards, and Harry played just for something to do. Pansy rubbed some cream onto her face and laid down in the sun. Crabbe and Goyle tried to hit a torch sconce with stones.

Draco spent the day at Ginny's side in the hospital wing. He appeared at the lunch table with a small wicker basket. He filled it with sliced meats and cheeses, bread, two pears, and a bowl of vanilla pudding. He also filled a small jug with pumpkin juice.

"Planning a picnic, Dray?" Blaise said.

"Don't call me that, Teeny. What if I am?"

"Tetchy git."

"How's Ginny?" Pansy said.

"Better," Draco said. "Madam is hinting that she might release them today. Millie's about going spare."

"Any run-ins with her brothers?"

"One. The twins came to visit her. I pretended that I was there to keep Millie company. They didn't stay long, just long enough to drop off a package to me."

"Candy?" Pansy said sharply. "Did you eat it?"

"Do I look dumb to you? Don't answer that."

"What was it?" Harry interjected.

"It was a sampler box of some new products they've been working on. A little less novelty pranks and a little more practical."

"Yeah?"

"Something they called Peruvian Darkness Powder."

Harry thought that sounded very interesting. "What's it do?"

"They wouldn't tell me, just that I should try it out."

"How are Elan and Percy?"

"Still the same. I think they're going to be transfered to Saint Mungo's. I have to go."

Once Draco was out of earshot, Blaise shook his head with a sigh. "What the hell has been going on lately? People in the hospital wing? Why won't anybody tell me anything?"

Harry had had enough of the boy's whinging.

"Zabini, stop talking. This is none of your concern."

"Only because you won't let me get close. I swear, Potter, sometimes you're downright suspicious of me."

"Constant vigilance."

"How's that working out for you?"

"Detention, Zabini."

"You can't be serious, Hair."

"Want to make it two?"

"The OWLs start tomorrow!"

"Professor Umbridge will set the terms. I can recommend to her that it not be this week if you apologize for your cheek."

"Cheek! You really can't take any funning, can you, Hair? I've never given you lot any reason to distrust me. You don't even seem to remember that we were firsties together for about two months before your antics got me pulled from school. I've never heard an apology from you for that."

"You didn't want any part of our adventures then, so why should I give you my confidence now? You haven't shown me your worth. Stick by my side through thick and thin and help save my life a few times, then you might be someone I trust. Until then, you're just somebody we used to know and might as well be meeting for the first time."

"So all the work we've done in the duelling club doesn't count?"

"Do you think I've confided in the Hufflepuffs then? Perhaps the Gryffindors?"

"Wasn't Dray dating one of them?"

"Does your mouth not have an off button?"

"Not really, no."

"Then I'll have to hex it shut. Don't hack me off, Zabini."

"Sounds like I already have, and I don't understand why."

"You don't need to understand! Just stop talking! Is that really so hard for you?"

Zabini opened his mouth, but Harry pointed a finger. "There! You're about to do it again. Stop! Shut it. Do not make noise."

Zabini glared across the table, but he mercifully did as he was told. He even accompanied the rest of the gang outside. It would be a mortal sin to not take advantage of such nice weather, and they sprawled on the grassy hill at the top of the way down to the Quidditch pitch. They could see a pick-up match happening between representatives of all four houses. From the sounds of it, there was quite a crowd watching.

Harry normally would have been interested in Quidditch. He had spent the last nine months teaching Laine everything he knew about Quidditch and Seeking. Right now he didn't care if he ever played Quidditch again.

"Draco, you're team captain next year."

Everyone else, who'd been listening to Pansy and Tracy criticizing Cho Chang's new hairstyle, turned to stare.

"Harry, Draco's not here," Tracy said gently.

He looked around. "Oh. Right."

"You've been training for this all year. Why do you want to give it up?"

"What's the point? We spent far too much time this year working on plays when we should have been practicing our spells. Maybe if we had we'd have been more ready."

"Harry, don't," she said, moving to hug him tightly. "Don't play the game of what might have been. Nobody ever wins."

"I just wonder if we might have been able to prevent it."

"You couldn't. That's just the pain talking."

Harry went limp and began to cry. Zabini, clearly confused, did not say a word.

They stayed outside until clouds moved in to cover the sun. The wind also picked up, and the day wasn't nearly so nice. They moved to the common room where they played cards until dinner time. They were just about to head up to the Great Hall, when the wall slid back and admitted Millie.

"Hey, guys. Released at last."

"Don't bother to sit, Bull," Zabini said. "We were just leaving for dinner."

"Shut up, Laze. I knew I should gave gone directly there. I'm famished. Hospital food is so unappetizing."

"Ginny still there?"

"No, Madam let her go too. We walked down together. She and Draco are having a private moment in the corridor."

"Well, it wouldn't do to interrupt."

Pansy smirked. "Certainly not. Let's."

Harry cast a Silencing Charm on all their feet, and they crept up the hallway as quietly as they could.

Draco and Ginny were otherwise occupied and probably wouldn't have noticed a rampaging herd of Blast-Ended Skrewts coming towards them.

The snog came to an end, and she hugged him closely.

"I just feel so all over the place. We saved my brother, and I'm ecstatic about that, but I lost my best friend. I cry so much, but I switch reasons every five minutes."

"Saving Elan was the greatest thing I've ever done. My father is proud of me, of all of us, but I can't say anything. I can't whoop and cheer our success, because my best mate lost his girl. We shouldn't even be alive, but we can't celebrate because not all of us are."

"So what do we do?"

"Have our moments in private."

"I want to thank Harry. If he hadn't come with us, we'd all have been sent through the veil. It's because of him that we're alive."

Harry stepped around the corner.

"We did do something impossible. We should be proud, for that makes us mighty. Next time will be better. _We'll_ be better. We'll be stronger, with greater magic. We'll be like those big damn heroes who came to our rescue. We'll kill those Death Eaters and bring them to justice."

"We're with you, Harry," Ginny said fervently. "Until he's stopped, nobody is safe. Thank you for helping me save Percy. I know it cost you as much as it cost me."

"Laine would have gone with you anyway. I just have to keep telling myself that. I have to believe it, otherwise I'll go mad."

"I would have gone alone, and she wasn't about to let me. It was her idea to get you, actually. She said we should have the best dueller in the school with us, the Duelling Captain."

"Not alone," Draco said, holding her tightly.

Harry wanted to feel jealous of Draco. He wanted to be angry because he couldn't snog his girl anymore, but the anger wouldn't come. Instead he felt a firm resolution to make the world safe so that all girls could worry about nothing more serious than matters of the heart.

"Dinner?"

During the meal, someone told Draco what had happened outside, because he leaned over to Harry when pudding was being served.

"You seriously want to make me Quidditch captain?"

"You're as good as any other."

"Why would I want to be captain when there's a war to fight?"

"That's my line."

"The whole idea is absurd."

"So what do we do? Turn it over to the really young kids?"

"I always did want to get on the team in first year."

"I just don't want to waste anymore time. Every moment we waste is one more moment we could have been using to prepare ourselves."

"I agree totally. I don't want to be captain either."

"That's what the Mirror of Erised showed you."

"Things have changed. I've changed. I want my family to be safe. Put me in front of that mirror now, and I'd see myself tap-dancing on Voldemort's grave."

"I think I'd pay money to see you tap-dance."

As they exited the Great Hall after the meal was over, they encountered a delegation of Healers from St. Mungo's entering the castle. It looked to be a Master Healer and several lesser Healers. Harry recognized Andromeda Tonks in the lead and waved hello.

"Harry, how nice to see you. I'm afraid I can't chat just now. I've got a couple of patients to retrieve from the hospital wing."

Harry felt immense relief that his friends would be getting top-notch care. "I'm really glad you're here. Elan and Percy are in a bad way."

"Elan and Percy? They've been rescued? What's happened to them?" asked one of the Healers with a white sash pushed her hood back, revealing herself as Jamie Davis.

"We'll conduct our own investigation, Miss Davis. It's not your place to ask questions yet. Trainees observe with closed mouths."

"Yes, Master Tonks," Jamie said, chastened. "I was only concerned for old friends."

"One must not let personal attachment interfere with one's judgement. Detatch from your emotions."

Jamie silently nodded, putting her hood back up. Tracy looked like she wanted to greet her sister but made no motion. Harry figured she didn't want to get her big sister in anymore trouble.

"Harry, a good night to you. Good luck on your OWLs," Andromeda said.

"Thanks. Good night."

When they returned to the common room, all of the O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. students headed for the dormitories. The time for studying was over. The tests started in the morning.


	28. How Few Remain

If not for Professor Snape, Harry would certainly have failed all his OWLs.

The fifth and seventh years were up early on Monday morning to get a last bit of studying before breakfast. Everyone was bleary-eyed, having had a restless night troubled with anxiety. When they emerged from the dormitories, Snape awaited them in the common room with a cauldron of a bubbling clear potion. 

As ever, he was stern and dispassionate. He had on occasion held an impromptu review session with them. If they tried to put up a brave face and insist that everything was under control, he merely stared at them, his eyes seeing through every illusion and façade, until they admitted they needed help in a few areas. Now he offered help in another form.

"There has been a great deal of trouble going on lately. Many students are distracted by many, many things. To sit an examination in such a condition is to invite failure, as it is not a true test of one's knowledge or abilities. It is for this reason that the Distraction Suppressant was invented twenty years ago. Does anyone know who invented it? Miss Davis?"

"You, sir?"

"Correct. Five points to Slytherin. Do you know what it does?"

"It shuts out all things that are unrelated to the task at hand."

"It does. It does not improve one's recall, coherence, or skill, but it does insure that one may perform to one's best ability. This potion is banned in professional sports," and Snape sounded vaguely proud of that fact, "but not by the board of governors. Professor Dumbledore tried to make it so, but he was overruled. It has allowed many students to achieve the best OWL and NEWT scores despite a family tragedy or a broken heart. Anyone who would like a dose may take one each morning for the next two weeks."

The potion tasted like mint. Harry felt all of his worries fading away. He deposited the empty phial in the basket Snape held out. He felt a powerful urge to eat breakfast, secure in the knowledge that his body needed proper nutrition. At the table, he didn't hurry excessively to eat and dash. That was bad for the digestion. He flipped a few pages as he speared sausages with his fork.

Everything was a nice pleasant blur. Harry remembered nothing about the first week aside from the exams and the writing and the questions. When he woke up on Saturday, he marvelled at how quickly the time had passed. It was very nice to simply detatch and go with the flow.

Laine had been gone a week, and he'd barely thought about her. Without the influence of the potion, his memories assaulted him with a vengeance. In his mind's eye he saw the bolt of light hit her directly in the chest. She gasped in surprise at the impact for just a moment before she was propelled through the tatty, gauzy veil.

Tears welled in his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. His nose clogged up, and his shoulders tightened. He didn't blame himself anymore -- not much anyway. He missed Laine. It had been very strange to not see her at breakfast, or walk her to class, or sit with her in the common room or library. Nobody dared to talk about it, so she was utterly gone. People knew, of course. The portraits had carried word from numerous meetings in Dumbledore's office, but nobody talked about it around Harry.

Harry blew his nose and tried to get himself under control. He had to carry on. He'd known that there would be casualties in this war. Snape had told him so, had asked him if he was able to accept responsibility for his actions.

_I just didn't think my girlfriend would be the first one. But then, who did I think would be the first? It could have been any of us. Or all of us. Stop feeling sorry for yourself, Potter. Time to man up. Stop crying like a sissy and make her death mean something. Let her inspire you still._

"All right, Harry?"

Harry jumped at hearing the voice again after so long.

Theo's curtains were open, and the weedy boy sat cross-legged. He had a ragged growth of fuzz that was trying very hard to be a beard. For the first time in months, his eyes weren't emotionless and blank.

"No, mate, I'm really not. Laine's dead."

"Your girl?"

"They killed her. We walked into an ambush. She was killed by Bellatrix Lestrange. Bloody Death Eaters! Bloody Voldemort! They kill everything I love. I'm going to hunt him down, and I'm going to cut his thumbs off, cause he won't get very far in life not having thumbs. Let the bastard live and be a sodding wanker without thumbs, if he can! Hard to cast a Killing Curse without thumbs to hold a wand, the scum-sucking sod-along."

More hot tears flooded his eyes. He wiped them away without shame.

"I hate them, Theo. I hate them all. I'm going to get them and do worse things than kill them. They're too evil to just kill. They deserve to suffer first."

Theo nodded seriously. "They do."

"We can't trust the Ministry to do it. It has to be our responsibility."

"Yes."

"We have to be strong. We have to train up."

An eager smirk broke across Theo's face. "I'm ready."

"It's going to involve lifting weights."

"I'm beyond caring about Muggle ways or not," Theo said with a manic gleam in his eye. "I'll use one of their guns if it'll let me hurt the monster that took my father from me."

Theo had walked a devastating road this year. His single-minded dedication to his schoolwork had been eerie at times, disturbing at others. His new focus on revenge was a welcome change.

Harry held out his hand. Theo clasped it tightly.

"We will end this."

Harry pulled out some workout clothes and led Theo up to the Room of Requirement. As he paced, he thought about the duels he'd seen.

_I want to train until I'm more magnificent than even that._

Theo's reaction to the room was no less impressed than Harry's first time here had been. 

They worked up a serious sweat casting the most powerful spells they could. They improvised, trying new things just to see if they would work. 

It was good to see Theo animated again. He'd been so despondent over the school year that it was easy to forget he was even around. They'd tried to reach out to him, but they were always rebuffed.

_But he spoke to Ginny._

Now he'd spoken to Harry. There hadn't been many words yet, but Harry knew more would come. They'd made the first steps.

When they could cast no more, Theo wore an exhausted grin, and that alone made Harry's current aches and pains worthwhile threefold.

"I need a bath."

"I need a swim. Come with me."

Harry led the way to the prefect's bathroom. It was empty, but steam billowed from the surface of the water, nearly obscuring one's vision. Harry Summoned two great fluffy towels from the cabinet with a flick of his wand. Without adieu, Harry shucked his sweaty clothes and dropped his wand on the towel by the side of the pool. He took a big breath and dove in deep.

The heat opened up his every pore and set his whole skin tingling. He held his breath as long as he could, luxuriating in the feeling. He heard the splash, muted by the water, which rippled as Theo jumped in feet first. Slowly exhaling as he rose to the surface, Harry shook water out of his eyes and began to swim for the furthest edge.

The heat soothed his sore muscles, and Harry knew that even if he decided to give up being a prefect next year, he would have to keep his access as Duelling Captain. One didn't have to be a prefect to order to make Head Boy. If he did, he would definitely let the Head Girl run the council her way. He would be focused more on the Duelling Club, provided the war didn't end before he made to his seventh year -- and that he was still alive.

Perhaps the club needed a new name, something that didn't suggest that what they were about was only a pastime.

_Hogwarts' Army? Junior Aurors? Aurors In Training? The Order of the Phoenix is already taken, and that might be hard to pull off considering Dumbledore has a phoenix and I don't. Order of the Basilisk?_

How far did he really want to push this Heir of Slytherin thing anyway? It had sort of just slipped out during the confrontation with Tom Riddle. He'd gotten into the spirit of telling Riddle off. It had occured to Harry that he, with all the traits Slytherin had looked for in his chosen students, was a more worthy Heir than someone who may have shared blood traced through a very long and murky past, but had no sense of morals or decency and murdered children, and the words had come out. Draco and Theo had initially treated it very seriously, but had then somewhat made light of it amongst just their close group. Percy had bought into it completely, and Harry didn't take that lightly one bit. He hadn't been comfortable with Percy kneeling in front of him, but the boy's help had been useful in third year.

_Maybe I_ should _be like Voldemort and Dumbledore and have a group of close personal friends whom I can trust. Percy would walk through fire if I asked him to. Elan showed me his heart when he went against his father to rescue me. Mister Malfoy is on my side. Sirius and Remus wouldn't even need to be asked. We can get Tonks and her parents too. Family._

Mr. Malfoy had once said that family was all you could trust in the world. By blood and by choice, they were all one family. Harry had always wanted it, and now that he had it, he wasn't going to ever give it up. He wouldn't let anyone break them.

_Both Dumbledore and Voldemort were betrayed._

Harry couldn't imagine any of his friends betraying him, but he knew his parents had thought that of Peter Pettigrew. The traitorous wretch had been quite the actor to not only leak information to Voldemort but to also convince not just one but two of his friends that they should trust their safety to a deception rather than loyalty, family, and love.

_If any of them do betray me, I'll never see it coming._

Saturday was an odd day. Harry wasn't taking the potion, but he wasn't studying either. Somehow he just couldn't be bothered. 

"I'm going to take a walk," he told the others.

"Want some company?" Tracy said.

"Not right now. I just need to be alone for a little bit."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah. Thanks. Maybe later?"

"Just find me."

Harry strolled about the grounds, his pace languid and unhurried, lost in memories of walks he had taken with Laine. The sun shone brightly, and a gentle breeze sent the tree branches to swaying.

He lingered by a large boulder against which she had pinned him firmly and snogged him senseless. The rough edges had dug into his back, but he hadn't noticed at the time. He closed his eyes and remembered the softness of her hands as she cupped his face. Their teeth had clacked together, but they hadn't stopped.

He veered off the gently sloping path and took a steeper route. Soon he was off the grass entirely and was climbing on rocks. He had the sudden urge for physical activity. He made his way up to an outcropping. There was about a dozen feet of air under him. He stood there for a moment, soaking in the sunlight. The warm rays promised hope and comfort.

The memories didn't hurt to the point of agony anymore, but left a dull ache in his heart. He was slowly coming to accept the idea that he would never see Laine again, and he clung fiercely to all he had left of her. She would never be truly dead so long as he remembered her. He wanted to visit every place he'd seen her smile, heard her laugh, smelled her hair, or gotten lost in her eyes. 

All in all, he must have walked over nearly every part of the castle and grounds with her at one point or another. Harry wandered more or less aimlessly until he could take the rumbling of his stomach no more and went back inside the castle.

Things were quiet and normal during lunch. Ginny seemed to be hanging in there, and Harry pulled up a dozen times he'd seen her giggling together with Laine. He had loved the sound of her laugh, and he'd tried to make a lot of jokes just so he could hear it. Now he'd never hear it again.

After lunch, Harry wandered up on the battlements, remembering kisses stolen, feeling Laine's soft lips pressed against his as her arms wrapped tightly around him. He ran his fingers along the rough-hewn surface, feeling the solid permanance of the granite. He even imagined he could feel the castle's magic humming in the stone.

The views up here were truly magnificent. Tree branches swayed in the warm breeze that carried the promise of summer. Birds flapped through the air and occasionally dove towards the surface of the lake. With a great splash, they captured a fish and clawed their way skyward again. The mountains were still capped with snow, and animals too far away to identify hunted for prey.

Harry wandered along the battlements for several hours until it was time for dinner, which was another subdued affair. Ginny and Draco were sitting together, laughing quietly. Pansy and the girls kept to themselves, exchanging gossip in half-hearted tones. Crabbe and Goyle were flipping through their notes. Theo sat next to Harry, and without words they interacted more than he had with anyone in months. Blaise looked uncertain of himself, and he restricted his table talk to requests for more mashers or to please pass the salt.

After dinner, Harry went to Snape's office. The Potions Master was at his desk grading exams. He had pulled his hair back and tied it with a leather thong. The style did nothing to distract from his very large nose. He laid aside his quill and gave Harry his full attention.

"Professor, I should like some Dreamless Sleep."

Snape arched one eyebrow.

"Mister Potter, why do you not brew it yourself?"

"I haven't had time, sir. This past week has been rather fuzzy."

"A side effect of the Suppressant. It cannot accelerate your actions, so as a consequence of removing the anxiety, must stretch your perception of time to allow for the same amount of studying and writing that you would normally do."

"I don't think I like it very much, sir. No offense meant."

"That is your prerogative, Mister Potter. The potion is entirely optional."

"And you make us choose."

"Indeed. Life is nothing but a series of choices. Where you go and what you become is dependant entirely on the choices you make."

"Is that true of you also, sir?"

"More than most, Mister Potter, and mind your cheek. I have yet to give you what you came here for."

"Sorry, sir. I've never been able to not say something, even in front of Voldemort."

"The Dark Lord is distant and will strike with minimal warning. I am right here."

"Honestly, sir, we're going home in a few days."

"You are relying on the passage of summer to dull my memory. I assure you, this will not be the case."

Harry couldn't tell, but he thought Snape might be trying to joke with him.

"Sorry, sir. Really. May I have the Dreamless Sleep please?

"Tell me of your encounter with the Dark Lord."

"I was wondering when you would ask, sir. I stopped him from killing Sirius. I tried to disarm him. He wanted to know about the prophecy. I told him I'd destroyed it. He asked if I'd listened to it before I did, and I said no, but he knew I was lying. He tried to Legilimize me. I kept him out. Then he tried to use the Killing Curse. I dodged it."

"Wait a moment. Elaborate on the Legilimancy."

"Yes, sir."

Snape nodded as Harry described the thunder, the lightning, the silver dome, withstanding the storm of Voldemort's raging attack, and pressing out until the Atrium came back into focus.

"Then he tried to kill me. We duelled a bit. Eventually we cast spells at the same time, and this strange golden thread connected us."

Harry repeated the tale he'd told to Dumbledore. Snape showed no surprise, and Harry knew Dumbledore must have told him already.

"The Occlumency and mental discipline helped so much, sir."

"You withstood the Dark Lord's most desperate assault. He needed that prophecy, and you kept him out of your mind entirely. Well done, Mister Potter. You make your teacher proud."

Harry never got tired of hearing people say they were proud of him. It had happened so infrequently while growing up (never) that he glowed a little every time it happened.

"I am honoured to have been your student. Thank you for teaching me how to protect myself."

"I will give you the Dreamless Sleep, but I wish you to instead quiet your mind until you fall asleep. If you wake with bad dreams, take half the dose. Save the other for tomorrow night if necessary."

"Thank you, sir."

Harry returned to the dorm and changed into his pyjamas. He drank his potion and embraced the silence of his bed. In the absense of physical sound, the noises of his mind seemed louder. He ordered his thoughts, quieting his mind and letting go of emotion. He lay in perfect meditation for a span of time he couldn't say, for he had let go of the notion of time. At some point he slipped into deep, restful sleep.

* * *

Sunday was much the same as Saturday.

After breakfast, Harry exited the castle and headed for the Quidditch pitch. He retrieved his broom and hit the skies, flying aimlessly about the grounds. Laine had loved flying, Quidditch, and Seeking. She hadn't been all that great at it to start with, but she'd gotten the hang of it eventually. Harry had spent several hours a week with her, teaching her everything he knew about Quidditch. She'd paid rapt attention, hanging on his every word. Now she would never fly again.

He sat back and descended to the ground where he hovered at about five feet. He didn't know how many more memories he could take without losing all control and bawling his eyes out. As much as he wished to seek the comfort of his friends, he knew he needed to store up memories for the pensieve. Soon he would be back home; then he'd be able to see her image again, and at least say goodbye somewhat properly.

"I wonder if there's going to be a funeral," he said out loud. Would he be able to go? Would her family even want him there?

Draco came to fetch Harry to lunch. Harry didn't feel like eating, but he knew if he didn't go, they'd be even more worried about him.

Lunch was marked by a nervous breakdown at the Ravenclaw table. One of the seventh years whom Harry didn't know suddenly started screaming incoherently. Professor Flitwick quickly intervened, but the poor girl was escorted up to the hospital wing.

Tracy, who had several friends in Ravenclaw, quickly brought the news.

"Kate Reeve hasn't slept in two weeks. She's been taking something called coffee pills she got from a Muggle apothecary. One of the fourth years spilled pumpkin juice all over her study notes."

"I'm surprised there wasn't a hexing," Pansy said.

"They didn't let Reeve get to her wand."

"Smart move."

After lunch, Harry went to Professor Umbridge's office. He knocked on her door, not knowing if he expected her to be there.

She was.

"Mister Potter, what may I do for you?"

"I wanted to let you know that I'm not going to have any part of the tournament. I don't want to host it, I don't want to announce anybody, I don't want any part of it."

"How will it look for the Duelling Captain to not take part in the Duelling Tournament?"

"You ran the club just fine until I got the badge. I'm just too tired, Professor. I tried to do too much this year. I pushed myself too far. I need to step back a bit. Please."

"Very well, if you truly do not wish to participate, I will handle everything. Was there anything else?"

"No, ma'am."

"Dismissed."

Harry went down to the common room and tried to study for a few hours, but he gave it up as a bad effort and went to the prefect's bathroom for a swim.

There was no one else there, and Harry luxuriated in the silence. He was able to float and sink into the perfect quiet of his well-ordered mind. Meditation was easy under these conditions. He let go of all emotion and care, releasing his worries to the water.

He stayed in the water until his skin was wrinkled and pruney. He did laps back and forth to the point of exhaustion. When he finally emerged, he toweled off, dressed, and went down to dinner.

Harry kept yawning through the meal, so nobody tried to engage him in any serious conversation. Harry skipped pudding and went straight to bed. He didn't even call Sirius, though he did remember to order his thoughts and calm his mind before allowing slumber to claim him.

On Monday, Harry once again took the anti-anxiety potion and went to sit the remainder of his exams. The haze of carefree academic pursuit settled over him comfortingly for the four days, and Harry once again found himself a blubbering mess on Friday morning.

This time it was Draco who came upon him in his miserable state. He ambled back into the room from a visit to the loo and stopped in his tracks.

"Harry, what's going on, mate?"

"Nothing. Just the effects of the potion."

"I've been taking it, and all I've had is the urge to eat lots of vegetables."

"Guess it's suppressing a whole lot more for me then, isn't it?"

"Easy, Harry. I was there. There was nothing anyone could have done."

"No matter how many times I hear that, Laine is still dead. I can't change the past. She's dead, and I can't do a thing about it. I couldn't save her then, and now she's dead."

Draco put his hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Laine died because of her choice to stand up and be free. She refused to kneel before a maniac liar. She died free from his taint of evil. We should be so lucky. My father lives in constant agony because of the Mark on his arm. I thank Merlin every day that I won't have to as well. That's the thought that keeps me up late at night, waking up in cold sweats, tossing and turning and get no rest at all. I have horrible nightmares where I take the Dark Mark and kiss his feet. That's the choice every one of us faces, and Laine made hers with full knowledge. Remember that Death Eater attack in Hogsmeade? She was there that day, and she knew what we were up against."

"I know that. I know she would have gone even without us. It doesn't change that we weren't ready."

"Then we'll get ready. Combat training, all summer."

"Maybe we should have signed up for the tournament then."

"No, I think we needed a break. It's no good if we wear ourselves out. It's why the Hogsmeade visits go on."

None of the fifth year students had stayed in the tourney. Harry hadn't had the heart for it, and Draco claimed a hitch in his shoulder. Millie still tired easily, and Daphne hadn't yet returned to the castle.

The tourney was scheduled to take place over two days. To have enough room, they were down at the Quidditch pitch. The entire school turned out to watch.

Harry sat with his friends and looked up every now and again. Even though he was the Duelling Captain and had organized a great deal of the competition, he just couldn't bring himself to care.

"Welcome, Hogwarts, to the first annual Duelling Tournament! Allow me to explain the rules. We begin in single elimination mode until we are down to sixteen competitors. We will do our best to see that nobody has to duel someone from their own house until the final sixteen. We have our own inestimable Madam Pomfrey and also Healer Andromeda Tonks from Saint Mungo's in case of a medical emergency, so this means that nearly every curse and hex is allowed. Obviously the Unforgiveables are still illegal, but anything else goes today, boys and girls. When your name is called, please step forward."

Umbridge began pairing off students, and Harry's attention wandered.

Tracy said, "I wonder if Daphne is going to make it back to school before the leaving feast."

Pansy replied, "I don't think so. Professor Snape told me this morning that the Healers are having trouble figuring out what curse Dolohov used on her. It's hard to treat spell damage when you don't know the spell. There aren't a lot of purple curses, and none of them come close to this level of injury. It may have been his own invention."

"I still can't believe her dad's not her dad. What an awful thing."

"I don't even know how to start offering comfort for that."

"She'll need to try pretty hard to laugh this one off."

"I think she can do it. She's a tough girl."

"Speaking of tough, how are you doing?" Draco asked Ginny.

"As well as can be expected, I suppose. I'm still trying to accept that my best friend is gone. I'm ecstatic that my brother is safe. Still trying to figure out why."

"That's the one thing I don't understand about what happened," Harry said. "Why would you have seen the vision? Why would Laine? I felt Voldemort try to break into my mind shortly before you both came running out. I can only presume he was trying to send the vision that you saw. Why? He and I are connected through this scar, but what about you? I don't understand."

"What does Professor Dumbledore think?"

"He doesn't know either."

"That's worrisome."

"Yeah, the greatest wizard of the age is clueless. I feel great about it."

"I mean, I once had a connection to Voldemort. Tom Riddle's diary. It felt a little like that. That's how I knew it was real. I just didn't think it was a trap."

"It doesn't explain why Laine would have seen it too. She never touched the diary."

Harry lapsed into silence, remembering.

He would never again get to hold Laine close, to smell her hair, to say without words that he liked her. They would never again study side by side in the library, both of them going over his notes from fourth year. He'd never be able to kiss her and hear that little giggle she made.

He'd asked her about that once. She'd claimed it was from residual giddiness about dating the Boy-Who-Lived. He'd frowned at that. He hated being known like that.

"When I was growing up, my father would tell me all about how Harry Potter had conquered the Dark Lord and saved the world. He was a great hero, and he'd been whisked away to grow up away from it all, so he could be prepared for the adulation of the people. I used to dream that one day I might meet that Boy and thank him for saving me and everyone else. Then when I learned about _boys_ , I got the most awful crush on him."

Harry had flushed.

"And it was always perfect because you were whatever I wanted you to be. Sometimes you were an Auror or a Healer or the Minister for Magic or something else, and you swept me away to some faraway castle. You always seemed to have a castle for some reason."

She'd giggled again. "Maybe I just knew that I'd meet you at Hogwarts someday."

Harry tried, but he just couldn't stay mad at her, especially when she whispered in his ear, "The real thing is so much better."

Lost in his bittersweet memories, Harry paid little attention to the duels. He cheered for all the Slytherins and clapped politely if the winner was from another house. If there were no Slytherin involved he ignored the contest entirely.

The second day of the tourney was even more violent than the first. With bigger circles to fight in, more spectacular spells were possible.

Some people got hurt. Angelina Johnson ripped a boulder from the ground, morphed it into a golem, and sent it at her opponent. Before the Ravenclaw could react, he'd been knocked unconscious by a stone hand.

Harry was a bit more interested in these duels. Now only the best in the school were left. He watched with mild curiosity, but he didn't really care much at all. He didn't even keep track of the names, only noting when the final match -- with a circle as big as the entire pitch -- was over.

"And the winner is Cedric Diggory of Hufflepuff!"

The badgers wents bananas.

A tired and weary Cedric staggered towards the centre of the stage. Blood dripped from a dozen wounds, and he'd need a Healer immediately if he wanted to regain his pretty face. Cho Chang jumped on the stage and ran to embrace him. Cedric ran a hand through his tangled hair and suddenly he smiled, not looking at all like he'd just been through a mild war. Cho made a very satisfied noise and laid a snog on him that made Umbridge hurry up onto the stage to interrupt them.

"Congratulations, Mister Diggory. You are truly the Hogwarts Duelling Champion. I would like now to introduce Mister Jericho Jennifer, of Duellists International."

"Mister Diggory, you have shown us many things over this course of this tournament. I have enjoyed watching you immensely. Have you given thought to what you will do now that you are finished with school?"

"I was hoping to play Quidditch, but with the war on, I'm going to see where the Ministry needs me."

"I'd like to extend an invitation to come on tour with us. We're conducting training seminars to help people brush up on their Defense. It's been a long time since school for a lot of folk, and a refresher is just the thing they need. It's a way for you to use those skills of yours to help other people. What do you say?"

"Yes. Of course, yes."

"Congratulations on your victory."

The crowd began to applaud, and then Umbridge dismissed them.

The party in the Hufflepuff common room that day was legendary. They were raucous all through dinner, and the whoops of triumph probably still echoed in the halls.

Harry and what remained of the gang relaxed together in the common room. They hadn't much time left. Tomorrow would be spent packing up trunks with the Leaving feast to follow. Monday morning was the train back to London.

Ginny had her legs draped over Draco's lap. He held her hand gently, and she traced little circles with her finger.

"So what happens this summer?" Millie asked.

"We should all learn how to Apparate," Pansy said. "We can start to learn next year if we're old enough. I want to be able to run away if I have to."

"They should waive the rule and let under-seventeens learn how," Tracy said.

"Are we going to be able to see each other or will we be prisoners again?" Millie said. "I don't think I can bear another holiday like the last one."

"It won't be for long," Harry replied. "Wait for an owl from me. We're not just going to wait. We're going to learn to fight. I'll share more details when I have them."

"I know we have to, but I'm scared," Tracy said quietly.

"You should be scared. We should all be terrified. Which of us is next? You all want to know. You all hope it's not you. I don't blame you for that. I don't want to die either. I want to live, but if I have to die because some prophecy says so, so be it, but by the magic in my blood, I'm taking that monster with me."

She squeezed his hand.

Theo came out of the dorm and approached their corner. He sat down next to Pansy. The stoic face was gone. He looked almost normal again.

"Where's Theo going to go?" Pansy said. She knew the truth of his home situation and hadn't said a word all year.

Harry answered, "He's coming home with me. Sirius told me."

Theo nodded. "Thanks."

Everyone's eyes snapped to Theo. It was the first word he'd spoken to most of them in a year.

"Hi, guys," he said, his voice still creaky. "How've you been?"

Draco looked like one could knock him over with a moderate wind spell. 

"You okay, mate?"

"I'm better. A bit, anyway."

Though they tried not to press him overly much, Theo's voice gave out after about half an hour of catching up with the others. It was still good to have him back in the group, and he even played a few hands of cards.

They took it easy until the Leaving feast that evening. The Great Hall was draped in black, as it had been too many times in Harry's memory. The mood was somewhat subdued.

Harry filled his plate and emptied it, but if asked, he could not have said what he ate. After the meal was over, Professor Dumbledore stood up to address the students.

"The time has come to once again award the Cups. Please join me in congratulating Gryffindor on their first Quidditch Cup victory in ten years."

Captain Bletchley looked like he wanted to break down sobbing. He had eaten nothing, punishing himself for the loss of the Cup to the hated rivals of Gryffindor. He knew his name would become infamous in the house in years to come.

"The House Cup was once again a close race. I have no last minute points to award, so the winners are Hufflepuff."

Hufflepuff had done very well for itself this year. They had the Head Boy, as well as the House Cup, and the Duelling Champion. They were all beaming proudly, as they should be.

Harry was glad for Hufflepuff, but he just couldn't find it in himself to applaud. The awards seemed rather silly when Laine was dead.

Professor Dumbledore waited for the racket to die down. Now his expression was more serious, less jovial. "It is my wish that you all know that I have given Professor Umbridge the sack. While she was right to urge you to prepare for the war, she led you to believe that Death Eaters are a mere inconvenience, a minor threat if any at all. Two weeks ago, some students discovered just how wrong that perception was when they snuck out of the castle and one was killed. Miss Umbridge's rhetoric has gone too far. I'm not sure who I will replace her with, but a propagandist has no place teaching in this school. As I said, a student has been killed by the Death Eaters. I ask you all to raise your glasses to Laine Slater. She was a fine example of Slytherin house. We are all made less by her absence.

Harry numbly drank the toast with his friends. More than anything he wished that he could just go home. He was tired of trying to keep his composure. He really just wanted to scream and rail as hard as he could. He wanted something to hex into oblivion.

"This has been a trying year. We have all lost much. I cannot promise that the future will be brighter, only that we owe it to ourselves to try to make it that way. I bid you good night. Merlin and the Founders watch over you all this summer. Be smart, be safe, and be vigilant."

The next morning after breakfast, there was a scramble to put last things in trunks and get out in front of the castle where the carriages awaited them. Harry was considerably startled to see that they were no longer horseless. Each was pulled by a skeletal creature that resembled a horse. It seemed that only Harry knew they were there. Most everyone else piled into a carriage as he stared at the beasts.

"Come on, Harry," Draco said.

"I'll get the next one." He shook his head in wonder.

"Thestrals," Theo said. "They can only be seen by those who have witnessed death and understood it. I've been able to see them ever since my father died."

Harry noted that Theo had never once mentioned how his father died, but he saw no need to trumpet that knowledge.

"Well, if it isn't Potty."

Harry groaned inwardly and turned to face his would-be nemesis.

"You ought to try being polite sometime just for the sake of variety, Weasel."

"Shall we take a carriage? After you, good sir."

There was only the one, so Harry, Theo, and Weasley climbed in. "Sarcasm doesn't become you."

"You make me sick, Potter. You and your precious Umbridge are tyrants and bullies. I'll get you back for giving me detention. I always knew you had Dark intentions, and that proved it."

"What are you on about?"

"Don't even try to play dumb. You know what she does to people in detention."

"I never asked. It's none of my business how a teacher conducts punishment."

"You're not playing dumb," Weasley said. "You are dumb."

"Coming from you, that's rich. How many cauldrons have you melted this year?"

"Fewer than last year."

"So what did Umbridge have you do?"

"Lines."

"Lines? That's it?"

"Lines until I 'learned my lesson'."

"I imagine that took awhile with you. How many lines?"

"It's not the number, Potter. It's the means."

"You're not making any sense, as usual."

Weasley thrust his left hand towards Harry's face. Harry dodged to the side.

"You're pretty jumpy, Potter."

"Constant vigilance."

"Look closely."

Weasley had a big hand. There was faint scarring on the back. It looked almost like words. Harry peered closer. It was words.

_I must not tell lies._

"She had a special quill for me to use. As I wrote my lines, it cut into my hand. The ink from the quill was my own blood. It's Dark magic if I've ever seen it, and I'm going to tell my father about it."

"And what precisely is the good conductor going to do about it?"

"He still has a few friends in the Ministry. He's starting to work his way up the ladder again."

"Good for him."

"She's already been sacked from Hogwarts, and when the right people hear about what she was doing to the students, she'll be out of the Ministry so fast it'll make your head spin."

"And that affects me how?"

"What are you going to be now that she's gone?"

"Duelling Captain. Prefect. Quidditch Captain next year. What are you?"

"You're slime, Potter."

"And you're jealous of slime. I'm not the bad guy here. I'm the one fighting the bad guy. Don't you pay attention at all in Duelling Club?"

"Only when we're talking about spellcasting. I ignore all that blather you and that evil toad spew at us."

"Why do you think we're training, you brainless berk?"

"You're training to conquer the world by force, and you're using Voldemort to distract everybody."

"Do you even listen to the things that come out of your mouth?"

"I'll fight you every step of the way. I beat you on the Quidditch pitch, and I'll beat you in battle."

"You didn't beat me at Quidditch. You fouled me."

"Stop lying, Slytherin. I know it's second nature to you by now."

The House Cup had been awarded. Harry couldn't take any points. It seemed pretty pointless to try hexing him when it had never worked in the past.

"Weasley, I wish you'd just grow up. There's too much at stake for me to get distracted by your stupidity. We don't have to like each other, but for Merlin's sake, why do we have to wrangle like this? Let's just leave each other alone."

"You lot started it."

"We didn't, but that's not the point. Let's end it."

Weasley narrowed his eyes and regarded Harry suspiciously. "What's your evil plan? Try to make nice and put me at ease while you commit your horrible deeds?"

"No trick, Weasley. Let's just walk away from each other. Ignore each other in Potions. Compete cleanly on the Quidditch pitch. That's it. What do you say?"

"We can give it a shot. You did help Ginny rescue Percy. I suppose that's worth something. I'm still going to keep an eye on you."

"I'd feel strange if you didn't."

Weasley exited the carriage. Harry and Theo waited a moment before following.

It looked like the others had already boarded the train. The driver waved at them and ducked inside the engine car. A great billow of steam went up, and the whistle blew sharply.

"All aboard!" called the driver. "Departure in two minutes. All aboard!"

"Come on, Theo. Let's go home."

Finé


End file.
